Guerin & DeLuca, PI T1: A Shadow in the Night
by ArchAngel1973
Summary: Post-Graduation. After a few years on the run, Michael and Maria go back to the States and settle down in San Francisco.
1. Chapter 1

**Guerin & DeLuca, P.I. – T.1: A Shadow in the Night**

**Author: ArchAngel1973 (in collaboration with xmag)**

**Disclaimer: **Characters and plot lines that appeared in the series, the books, and the concept of Roswell are not ours. Belong to Melinda Metz, UPN, etc, etc…

**Pairing: **M&M

**Rating: **Teen

**Summary: **Post-Graduation. After a few years on the run, Michael and Maria go back to the States and settle down in San Francisco.

*********

**Part 1**

A gentle breeze blew across the San Francisco Bay area, bringing with it the salty scent of the ocean and the distant sounds of the cable cars as they rolled along their tracks. The steep streets that seemed to run uphill regardless of direction were bustling with activity as the couple walked through one of the city's older neighborhoods.

Maria DeLuca was a vivacious blonde and despite nearly seven years on the run, hiding from a ruthless government unit, she hadn't lost her zest for life. She chattered incessantly about everything and nothing as she walked beside her long-time boyfriend, unconcerned with his monosyllabic and often non-verbal responses.

Michael Guerin had hardened towards many things over the years they had spent on the run, but not to the woman beside him. Ten years they had been together, and seven of those years had been spent constantly moving from one country to the next, evading government agents more times than he liked to remember.

They had been back in the States for the past few months, moving around and trying to find someplace to settle, someplace that felt right. They had stayed in Florida for a while upon their arrival but it hadn't taken very long to decide that they couldn't stay there long-term. They had ended up in Los Angeles a couple of months back, but that hadn't felt right to them either. A weekend trip to San Francisco was all it had taken for them to know where they wanted to begin their lives.

Neither of them had ever had much growing up and due to the circumstances they had been living under they had quickly learned how to cut corners and save every possible penny. They had been staying in a run-down motel on the wrong side of town, scrimping and saving so that when they found the right place they would be able to afford the deposit and first months' rent without completely bankrupting their savings.

He glanced at the animated woman beside him when she waved her left arm in a wide arc, the folded newspaper in her hand flapping madly in the wind. "I'm telling you, Michael, this is gonna be the one. I can feel it!" He smirked at her and shook his head. They had looked at dozens of apartments recently and so far none of them had been acceptable for a wide variety of reasons. "I told you about the rooftop garden, right?"

"Yeah, you told me about it." _She had expounded upon it repeatedly and he most likely could've recited the ad verbatim, but he bit his tongue to keep himself in check. She was happy and there was no way he was gonna ruin it for her; she hadn't smiled nearly enough the past few years and he was determined that things were gonna be different now that they were finally free of the shadow that had been looming over them for so long._

"I know it's only 700 square feet and that's not really a lot of room – "

"If you like it I'm sure it'll be fine, Maria. God knows we've lived in smaller places."

She stopped at the entrance to the apartment building and turned to face him, her hands coming up to rest against his chest. "You have to like it too, Michael."

"If you like it, I'll like it."

That brought the smile back to her face. "You'll like it. Seriously, Michael, this's the one!"

*****

_This was __**so**__ not the one._

Maria turned in a circle as her unimpressed gaze moved over the interior of the apartment. "Okay, I don't even need to take measurements to know that this isn't anywhere close to being 700 square feet."

Josef Moskowitz scratched one grizzled cheek and shook his head in confusion. "No, I'm afraid it's not much more than half of that," he said. He was very soft-spoken and he had a strong Austrian accent.

"And the rooftop garden?"

"No, I'm afraid this is all there is to it."

Michael's temper was quickly approaching the boiling point in response to the disappointed look on her face. He snatched the newspaper out of her hand and held it less than an inch from the old man's prominent nose. "Your ad states that the apartment is 700 square feet with a friggin' rooftop garden." He gestured at the minimal space around them. "This is obviously not it; she wants to see the apartment listed in your ad."

"May I see that?" He pulled a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket and slid them on. His bushy, steel-gray eyebrows lifted comically as he read the tiny ad. "Oh, I knew I should've handled this myself; I'm afraid this ad was placed in error," he apologized. "This _is_ the apartment that's available."

"You've already rented the other one?"

"Not exactly." Josef observed the couple, studying the way the young man watched his girlfriend as she moved around in the confined space. "My nephew was living here in the studio apartment for a few months and he was supposed to be renovating the larger apartment and handling basic maintenance, but…" He shook his head. "He took off a few months back and it was never finished. I can at least promise that it will be quiet," he offered with a small smile. "You'd be the only tenants on this floor."

"So, this apartment and the one that's unfinished are the only two up here?" Michael asked. His mind was working over this new information, considering what he could do with it.

"Yes." Josef tipped his head to one side as he wondered what the young man was thinking.

Michael looked at the wall at the end of the living room/dining room/bedroom area as he mentally pictured the layout of the building. "The living room for the other apartment…" He ran his hands over the wall before moving along the length of it, knocking at intervals. "It's on the other side of this wall?"

Josef nodded. "Yes."

"And the other apartment has that rooftop garden thing? And it's got a bedroom, too, right?"

"Um-hmm."

Michael nodded decisively. "We'd like to see the other apartment."

"Well…" Josef threw caution to the wind and led the way out into the hall, sorting through a large key ring as he made his way next door.

"Michael?" Maria glanced up at him as they followed the old man and waited for him to open the door. "What're you thinking?" She could barely contain her excitement; she didn't know what he was thinking, but she recognized the look in his dark eyes.

"I'll tell ya when I know if it's even possible." He turned his attention back to the landlord when the old man unlocked the door and pushed it open. "You own the building, Pops?"

"For almost 50 years now." He gestured for them to enter the apartment. "Please be careful; it's a mess."

_It needed a __**lot**__ of work,_ was Michael's first thought as he looked around at the destruction caused by an unskilled worker.

"It's beautiful," Maria breathed, her gaze tracing over the front wall as she moved closer to it. Windows adorned the entire wall and large bay windows had been built at each end, drawing in plenty of natural light.

"Your nephew didn't know much about this kinda work, did he?" Michael commented, internally appalled at the havoc the man had wreaked on the apartment.

"No, not really," Josef sighed sadly. To see what was once such a beautiful apartment in such a state just broke his heart. The building had been so important to him and it had been a big part of his life in this country.

Maria patted the old man's arm and smiled at him. "But, he's family and you were trying to help him."

Josef smiled in response to her open expression. "Yes, exactly." Josef pointed at the French doors on the far wall that led out onto the roof and he chuckled when she squealed in delight and skirted around the debris on the floor to get to them. "You must have your hands full with that one," he murmured, watching her as she ran through the garden that was in poor shape from lack of use.

"Always have," Michael agreed.

Josef gave the young man a tour of the apartment while Maria was otherwise occupied. "There are doors off of the bedroom that lead out into the garden as well." He reached out to pat the molding around the doorframe.

"This is all original," Michael said, leaning in closer to admire the craftsmanship that had gone into the hand-carved molding.

A quiet chuckle came from the old man. "I was quite thankful that my nephew didn't destroy any of it in his endeavor to renovate. I had a tenant quite a few years back who painted over all of the woodwork." He shook his head as he reached up to run his trembling fingers over the painted surface. "People have no understanding of true craftsmanship; they don't see the beauty in something as simple as a piece of carved wood."

Michael turned to look at the old man and he froze when he saw the line of numbers tattooed on Josef's inner forearm. He looked back at the way the man's fingers traced over the carved surface so reverently. "You carved them yourself," he guessed.

Josef smiled. "It's busy work; helps keep the mind occupied."

"You still make 'em?" Michael asked, his mind still reeling over his discovery of the old man's past. He had read about the Holocaust and the concentration camps, of course, but it was the first time he had ever met a survivor of Hitler's atrocities.

"No, not for years." He held his hands out. "Not quite as steady as they used to be." Josef nodded towards the young woman wandering through the garden. "She seems quite taken with that garden."

Michael watched Maria, his eyes softening. "She has a tendency to see the potential in things regardless of how well it's hidden." She was happy, that much was obvious; she loved the apartment. Michael moved through the rooms again, conscious of the old man following him. "Okay, let's get down to business. You want $1200.00 a month for the studio, right?"

Josef nodded, almost feeling guilty for the price of the little studio. "I know it's a little steep for an older – "

Michael shook his head and held one hand up to stop the old man's apologetic explanation. "I'm not tryin' to talk you down on the price, Pops. We've been lookin' at apartments for weeks, so I know how expensive they are. You said your nephew was handling maintenance for the building…" He glanced around. "Which is kinda scary considering what he did in here, so I'm gonna go on the assumption that you don't have anyone currently doin' that for you."

"No." Josef's expression changed to interest and he motioned for the young man to continue. "Go on."

"You let us have both apartments for the studio price and in exchange I'll do all the work on the apartment myself, and I'll take over the maintenance duties." He shrugged. "I work nights so it wouldn't by a problem for me to work on your tenants' apartment issues durin' the day."

"Why would you want both apartments?" Josef inquired, interested nonetheless.

"This one's not in any condition to live in and there's no reason to be runnin' back and forth between here and where we're currently stayin'." He shrugged and motioned to the far wall. "I'd also wanna put a wide doorway in between the two apartments to turn them into one large apartment."

Josef rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered the young man's proposal. "The apartment needs a lot of work."

Michael smirked when the old man started fishing. "We'll pay for the work we do on the apartment."

Josef looked around. It was a good idea, but it was too much work for him. "That include tearin' that wall out?"

"No cost to you, Pops," Michael answered confidently. He had learned a lot of things while on the run, and he had worked in different types of building construction as well as in other areas. He knew what he was doing.

Josef rubbed his chin pensively. It sounded like a good plan and he had a good feeling about the young couple. "And you know what you're doing when it comes to maintenance?"

"Wouldn't make the offer if I didn't."

*****

Maria looked up when Michael stepped outside, looking around as he crossed the space that separated them. "It needs a lot of work," she said, certain they had no chance of finding another apartment like it.

"Yeah." His answer was noncommittal.

"But, $1200.00 is a lot of money for 350 square feet." She rolled her eyes. "Hell, it'd be a lot of money for the larger one, but for that little studio..."

"But you still want it," Michael concluded.

She nodded. _Yes, she wanted it! It wasn't ideal, but it would work for a while._ "Well, eventually he's gonna have this one remodeled and if we've already got good rental history with him we'd probably have a pretty good chance of getting it."

"Yeah, we could do that." He shrugged and glanced at the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. "Or, we could take the entire sixth floor and work on the apartment ourselves."

Maria shook her head. "There's no way we could afford that, Michael."

"What if I told you the rent would still be $1200.00 for both apartments and the garden?" His eyebrows lifted in expectation. She was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, trying so hard to not get too excited about something that seemed impossible.

"How?" she asked cautiously.

"We cover the cost for the renovations and we take over building maintenance. We can live in the studio while we're workin' on this side, and at some point we'll knock out the wall between them and have one large apartment."

"Are you serious?" Maria asked, her eyes shining at the prospect of having such a big apartment just for the two of them.

Michael pulled his right hand out of his jeans pocket and held two sets of keys out to her. "I told him I had to see what you thought before we gave him a check for – " He just barely managed to hold onto the keys when she barreled into him and threw her arms around him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

The following weekend Michael juggled the sacks in his arms as he fumbled for his keys and stepped into the elevator at the new apartment building.

"Are you the new fix-it guy?"

He turned and looked down at the little boy standing in the back corner as he hit the button for the sixth floor with his elbow. "Why?" he asked. "You break somethin'?"

The kid shrugged one skinny shoulder. "Not today." He brushed his dark bangs back from his forehead and sketched up to see what the man was carrying. "Whatcha got in the bags?"

The kid was very curious. _He was probably bored, _Michael decided. He glanced down at the sacks and answered the question before going on his own way; it wasn't like talking to the kid was gonna take much of an effort. "Lunch."

The little boy didn't just let the conversation drop there. "I'm not opposed to talk to strangers."

_And he was a little motor mouth, too._ "Then why're you talkin' to me?"

"You're not strange," the boy answered, his tone serious.

Michael hid a grin at that. _If you only knew, kid._ "Not all strangers are strange, kid." He glanced up when the bell chimed, signaling their arrival on the sixth floor. "Listen to your parents and don't talk to strangers no matter how normal they seem."

"Okay."

Michael shook his head as he stepped off of the elevator and walked down to the studio and unlocked the front door. He was pocketing his keys and setting the sacks on the counter when his little friend from the elevator suddenly spoke up from behind him.

"You live in a girl's room!"

He turned to look at the kid who had obviously followed him inside and his gaze landed on the purple wall at the other end of the room. "Maria!" he bellowed.

"Wow, you're real loud," the kid said, impressed. His hands were still covering his ears from the unexpected shouting.

"Michael, what're you – " Maria stepped out of the tiny bathroom where she had been trying to wash the paint flecks from her skin. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise when she saw the little boy standing next to her boyfriend.

Michael was standing with his feet planted wide, arms folded over his chest as he glared at her. The little boy kept glancing at him and doing his best to mimic his posture and expression. She did her best to control the laughter that wanted to escape as she wondered where Michael had found his companion. The little boy couldn't be more than five or six years old and he appeared to be well-fed and cared for, so he most likely belonged to someone in the building.

"You didn't say anything about paintin' the walls purple," Michael growled.

"Yeah," the little boy spoke up, "now it looks like a girl lives here."

Maria laughed at his indignant tone. "A girl does live here."

The little boy watched her suspiciously for several moments before turning to see what Michael would say to that. The big guy was looking at the girl furiously. _Yeah, he'd be mad too if a girl did that to his room!_ "I wouldn't let no girl paint my room purple."

"The kid makes a good point," Michael said as he unfolded his arms and shoved his hands in his front pockets.

The little boy quickly adjusted his position so his posture was nearly identical to the man's.

Maria was just about to say something when a woman's panicked voice carried through the open doorway.

"Waylon Jacob Fletcher, are you up here?"

"Uh-oh." The boy's expression was mortified and he moved so that he was crouched down behind the bar that separated the tiny kitchen from the rest of the apartment.

A short, red-headed woman paused in the open doorway and knocked timidly on the frame. "Um, hi, I'm looking for my son," she said. She let out a relieved sigh when Maria pointed towards the kitchen. She hurried inside to check on her child, visibly relaxing when she saw that he was unharmed. "Damn it, Waylon, how many times have I told you that you can't go wandering off like that?" She grabbed his hand and pulled him out from behind the bar, rushing to apologize to the couple watching them. "I am so sorry if he bothered you." She looked down at her son. "What have I told you about talking to strangers? There are bad people who…" She glanced back at the couple. "Not that you're bad or anything, I just…"

Maria took a step forward and held a hand out to the woman. "I'm Maria DeLuca," she introduced herself with a smile, "and this's my boyfriend Michael Guerin; we just rented the apartment." The woman was young, only about twenty or twenty-one years old and unmarried if the lack of a wedding ring on her left hand could be trusted as an indicator of her marital status.

The frazzled woman smiled in response to their friendly greeting and shook their hands. "I'm Ellie Fletcher; we live on the second floor. Waylon has a very bad habit of getting on the elevator and riding it up and down until something catches his attention and he gets out on a random floor. He got away from me while I was talking to a neighbor."

"He's the new fix-it guy, Mom." He wanted to make his mother feel better by telling her that Michael wasn't a stranger, but was living and working with them.

"Really?"

Michael nodded.

The woman smiled, relieved. _If Josef had hired him, then that changed everything. She knew she could trust the old man's decisions. _"That's so nice. Poor Josef, he's been looking for someone to fill that position for so long. I feel so bad every time I have to call him."

"You call him a lot?" Michael was already planning his agenda concerning his job as 'Mr. Fix-It' in his head, and he knew he'd have to rearrange it if the little boy had a bad habit of getting into everything.

She blushed at the man's direct question. "Well, yeah, kinda… not for anything major, just…"

"Cuz I break stuff sometimes," the little boy interjected. "Mom just doesn't wanna say anything so you don't think I'm bad." His expression was solemn and his tone was matter-of-fact.

"Honey, you're not bad," Ellie protested.

"Yeah, I am… sometimes." He sounded sad. As if he couldn't help what he was doing and knowing that he was causing problems for his mother.

Michael crouched down in front of the boy. "You prefer Waylon? Or you go by Jacob?"

The boy's eyes lit up. "Well, Mom calls me Waylon, but…" He tipped his head slightly to the side to glance up at his mother. He grinned when she nodded, giving permission to his unasked question. "I kinda like Jake."

"Jake it is then. Y'know, I break stuff sometimes, too."

Jake opened his eyes wide at this revelation. _Michael was like him?_ "Huh-uh, you're the fix-it guy."

"No, it's true." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate Maria. "You can ask her an' she'll tell you that I do."

Maria nodded when Jake looked up at her. "He really does." She leaned over Michael's left shoulder, her right hand coming around to cup his chin and tip his head back so she could kiss him. "Don't break anything," she whispered against his lips.

"Ungh! Gross!" Jake protested, adding gagging noises as special effects.

She chuckled as she patted Michael's shoulders and stepped back to look at their young neighbor. "Can I interest you in a drink while these two talk, Ellie?"

*****

Nearly an hour later their guests left and Michael turned to Maria, hands propped on his hips as he waited expectantly. "Okay, you've bought as much time as you're gonna get," he said, motioning towards the purple wall. "Let's discuss that atrocity."

"There's nothing to discuss, Michael," she responded airily. She grabbed the sacks he had placed on the counter when he had gotten back from the takeout place and carried them over to the small microwave. She took the little cartons out and set them inside, frowning when she punched the button to start the heating process and nothing happened. "Hey, did you replace that fuse that we talked about earlier?"

"What?"

She turned when she heard his distracted tone and she rushed around the counter and into the living area when she saw the beige color creeping across the wall, effectively covering the purple paint. "No, no, no, no, no," she stated insistently. "That wall is gonna stay purple, now change it back."

"Maria, it's a girl's color."

"Y'know, I'm glad you've finally found someone whose opinions mirror your own." She picked up the paint can and pried the lid off of it, stirring it and pouring a liberal amount in the tray lying on the floor. "It's too bad that he's five and a half years old," she taunted and ran the roller through the paint, wiping the drips off before rolling it up and down the center of the wall. "This wall _will_ be purple."

Michael rolled his eyes at her defiant tone and simply ran his hand over the wall, changing it back to beige once more. "It's _San Francisco_, Maria… we're not havin' a purple room."

She laughed at him and ran the roller over the wall again. "Are you implying that someone might think you're gay? Because, trust me, Michael, no one's ever gonna think that, babe."

"Well, obviously no one's ever gonna think that," he huffed. "But, this is a chick's color; beige is a nice, neutral color and anything will go with it."

"You can have the other two walls," Maria offered generously. It was a good deal as far as she was concerned.

Michael turned to look at the other walls and then frowned at her. "What is that, like three square feet?"

She gave him a dark look. "Those are called accent walls."

"Good, then paint them purple; this's the biggest wall in the studio and you're probably just gonna hang some kinda girly plants on what little there is of the other two walls anyway."

"Why would I waste perfectly good purple paint on them if I was just gonna cover them up?" Maria protested indignantly. She was the one with the good sense of fashion; she knew perfectly well what the apartment needed as far as decorating went.

Michael stood his ground; he wasn't budging on this issue. "Maria, I love you, but I'm not gonna sit here and look at a big purple wall after workin' all night."

"Uh-huh, because a big, boring, beige wall would be so much better to look at." She rolled her eyes when he changed the color back to beige again.

"I'm not changin' my mind about this." He needed plain color on this wall so that when he got home after a hard day's work, he could fall asleep without being disturbed by the blatantly feminine-colored wall.

Maria leaned over to run the roller through the paint pan again, coating it with fresh paint. "We could stand here and argue about this all day, but we're still gonna have a purple wall. It's a very nice color; Liz and I discussed it and…" She carefully held the roller over the pan to catch any drips when he laughed at that.

"It's good that you've discussed it with Liz, seein' as how she's such an expert at interior decorating an' all, but she's not the one who's gotta look at it every day." He waved a hand at the wall. "Me an' purple, we're not gonna look that great together."

Maria's eyes twinkled playfully and before she stopped to think it through, she brought the roller up and rolled it right down the front of his shirt. She took a step back and admired her handiwork before looking up to meet his shocked expression. "I disagree, Michael; I think you and purple look just fine together."

"You know this means war," he growled, advancing on her.

"Now, Michael, wait!" Maria dodged out of his reach when he lunged for her and then led him on a chase around the room. They were both laughing, enjoying the freedom to just cut up and play without the constant fear of looking over their shoulders. She paused when he suddenly stopped and looked down at the floor.

"Uh-oh." He pointed at the floor before glancing up at her. "Your weapon of choice is drippin' all over the floor."

"Well, crap." Maria was frowning down at the mess they had made when he suddenly lunged again, grabbing for the paint roller and misjudging her reflexes; his miscalculation caused him to wrap his hand around the roller head instead of the handle and paint squished between his fingers and dripped down to land in a small puddle on the floor. She laughed when he released the roller and turned his hand over to look at it. "See? I told you purple was a good color for you."

Michael stared at his hand and his dark eyes gleamed with purpose as he wrapped his arms around her and walked her backwards to where the air mattress was leaning against the wall. They hadn't bought any furniture yet, but neither of them had wanted to sleep on the hard floor so they had invested in the mattress. He reached out with one foot and nudged it, nodding to himself when it dropped to the floor, well away from the paint pan.

"You remember the night of the festival? That night when we acted out that stupid skit Liz came up with to throw Valenti off?" he asked as he lowered them down to the mattress, stripping her shirt off and tossing it to the side.

"Yeah." Maria sighed contentedly when his weight settled over her. "What's – " Her eyes widened when she realized what he intended to do. "Michael, don't you dare!"

He placed his hand over her breast, right above her bra, leaving a replica of the handprint that he had left there so long ago. "You have no idea what went through my head that night," he whispered gruffly, lowering his head to kiss her.

"I can imagine," she said with a tender smile. _She knew her Spaceboy; he had to have been excited about touching her that night._

Michael leaned back and gazed down at the handprint resting against her pale flesh and a smile settled over his features. "Okay, you can have the purple wall."

"The big wall," she clarified, meeting his dark eyes. She pulled him down for another kiss when he nodded in agreement. "You're gonna be thinking about this every time you look at it, too, aren't you?"

"If I've gotta live with a purple wall, you're gonna have to live with whatever thoughts I need to have for me to be able to live with it." He started to move and she wrapped her arms and legs around him, effectively trapping him. "We should probably get that paint off of you."

Maria shook her head and reached up to trace her fingertips over his strong features. "Later." There was plenty of time for them to clean up the mess they had made of themselves and the apartment, but for now they weren't going to waste an opportunity to be together without the pressure that had been a part of their lives for so long.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Author's note: **__Some lines in this part were taken from the episode "Toy House"_

**Part 3**

Light fog hung over the quiet streets, giving everything a hazy appearance and lending a sinister quality to the shadows lurking in the corners and the alleyways. There was a cool breeze, but it was comfortable enough that there was no need for a jacket.

Michael's eyes scanned every inch of the neighborhood he and Maria had been calling home for a couple of weeks now. For the past few days he'd had the feeling that someone was watching them. He hadn't said anything to her because he didn't want to worry her or upset her if it turned out to be nothing. She was settling into the new apartment and making it a point to meet all of the building's residents, dragging him with her since he was the new "Mr. Fix-It" and she felt it was important for their neighbors to be familiar with them.

Nothing looked out of place but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was someone or something that didn't belong. He looked around one more time before pulling his keys out and mounting the steps to the building's front entrance.

Several minutes later a dark figure emerged from the shadows, making a notation in a small notepad before tucking it away and disappearing into the dark night.

Michael unlocked the front door and stepped inside, quietly closing and locking the door behind him. They still didn't have any furniture, but Maria had picked up a small lamp at a yard sale earlier in the week, and she insisted on leaving it on until he got home every night. He crossed the room and placed his keys, wallet, and paycheck on the bar. He made good money working at the bar and the tips were just a bonus. _A good bonus on nights like tonight,_ he thought as he pulled cash out of his front pocket and dropped it next to his wallet. It would be enough to pay off the sofa bed Maria had found at a used furniture store close to the shop where she worked part time. She also worked part time at the bar where he worked; they had lucked out with that because it gave her an opportunity to sing a couple of nights each week.

He reached for the stack of maintenance requests lying in the napkin holder he had made for her so long ago. He lifted them out and he smiled as he ran his fingers over the spring, remembering that moment so clearly. He had been impatiently waiting outside of the shop class, eager to see her expression when she admitted that the napkin holder he had made with his own hands had gotten a perfect grade.

"_How'd you do?"_

"_I flunked, as predicted."_

_He was shocked. "What?"_

"_Yeah. I guess I can, uh, safely rule out any career paths involving wood."_

_Confusion replaced shock. "Didn't you get my thing?"_

_She wasn't giving anything away at that point. "Yeah, I got it."_

_He had been completely offended. If she had gotten it, how had she flunked?! "Well, that's ridiculous. I worked my ass off on that thing. It was beautifully crafted! It was spring activated to hold the napkins! It redefined the term napkin holder!"_

_The slightest smile had crept across her face at his indignant tone. "Yeah, I know, it did."_

"_Well, how could he have flunked you? I mean… Wh-"_

"_Because I, um, I… I didn't use yours. I kept it. Thank you." _

_She had clearly been waiting for some sort of acknowledgment, but he had been so lost in the face of her happiness that he had just stood there like an idiot until she started to walk away. "I have something to say to you." She had stopped and turned to look at him. "If anything like that happens to me again, like when I got sick, don't help me. I can't get indebted to anyone, and I can't get entangled. I gotta be a stone wall. And when I'm around you sometimes, I don't feel like a stone wall anymore."_

"_Well, what do you feel like?"_

"_I don't know. Like confused."_

"_Like human?"_

"_Yeah, and I don't wanna feel that way."_

She had insisted on taking it everywhere with her, refusing to ever leave it behind. No matter where they were or what they had been calling home at the time, there was always a special place set aside for it. She was crazy and sentimental about the goofiest things, but he wouldn't change her for anything. He chuckled and shook his head as he turned his attention to the papers in his hand.

Maria had quickly set up a system for the residents to make requests for any problems they were having and she had used the computer in Josef's office to create the work orders she filled out for every call they got that was related to maintenance. _It wouldn't be long before she was reorganizing the nightmare that Josef called his office,_ he thought as he made his way around the bar to grab a drink from the refrigerator. _Isabel had obviously rubbed off on Maria._

He scanned through the work orders in the light from the open refrigerator, mentally organizing them into the most efficient use of his time. He wanted to finish as early as possible because Max was driving up from L.A. to help him move the sofa bed to the apartment. He was sure Liz would come too, which meant he would be subjected to incessant female chatter as she and Maria discussed whatever inane thing came up.

He shuffled the papers around before putting them back in the same order Maria had already had them in and then placed them back in the napkin holder to be dealt with the next morning. Leaving his glass on the counter, he walked around to the window that looked down over the street in front of the building. He used his forefinger to nudge the blinds aside and he leaned against the wall as he scanned the area once more.

His instincts weren't wrong; someone was watching them but whoever they were, they knew how to stay out of sight. His instincts had kept them alive and one step ahead of their pursuers too many times to simply ignore them now. He glanced down at Maria and his chest constricted at her peaceful, sleeping features.

_What if the decision to stop running had been a mistake? They had learned of Rath and Lonnie dying and being identified as him and Maria the year before, but what if it was just another trap? Maybe it was all an elaborate plot concocted to lure them back into the country and lull them into a false sense of security so they could capture them._

They had stayed in contact with Cal Langley while they had been on the run and he had informed them when the dupes had been killed by the Special Unit. Rath and Lonnie had been cornered in an old abandoned warehouse, but they hadn't gone down without a fight; one of the agents had reported seeing the female fugitive with two different appearances, but since they were aware of the aliens' shape-shifting abilities, the assumption had been that 'Michael' had been trying to change her identity before they could be captured. The agents had been certain that they had located Michael and Maria, but only had time to make the briefest of visual confirmations.

They hadn't been able to study the bodies because they had exploded and destroyed the building and any chance of identifying them through scientific procedure. But the agents in the Special Unit were satisfied that they had taken out the threat posed by the two fugitives and so they were no longer looking for a Michael Guerin or a Maria DeLuca.

_Not that it mattered,_ he thought. The names on their identification papers were officially James Michael Guerin and Samantha Maria DeLuca; they had altered her birth certificate and created one for him, they had different social security numbers to go with the altered identities, and their papers showed them being born in Canada instead of the United States.

So, if anyone ran their information for a credit check or a background it wouldn't throw up any red flags or alert the authorities. But, for all intents and purposes, if anyone asked – like Josef, when they had first met him – they went by their 'middle' names. The only time that came up was if the person they were talking to happened to have seen their drivers' licenses or their identification papers. Other than that, there was no need to explain that they chose to be called by their 'middle' names.

"You've felt it too, haven't you?"

His gaze dropped to Maria when she spoke, her voice raspy from sleep. "What?"

"That someone's watching us again."

He moved away from the window and carefully lowered himself to the mattress beside her, leaning in for a kiss before he rested his weight on his elbow and met her gaze directly. "Yeah, the last couple nights."

Maria nodded in resignation. "Do you think it's the F.B.I. again?"

"I don't know." He didn't like to think of that possibility. He had hoped that part of their lives was over, but the person hiding in the shadows was awakening his soldier's instincts. That meant that he could be dangerous.

She sighed and settled into his embrace when he pulled her against his body. "I don't wanna run anymore, Michael. We haven't been here very long, but it feels right… like this is where we're supposed to be."

"Don't start packin' just yet." He stared at the ceiling for several minutes. "When did you start getting that feelin'?"

"This morning when I left to go to work."

_Hmmm, so maybe the guy spying on them had taken a risk by hanging around that morning, if Maria had sensed him too._ "Did you see anyone?"

Maria thought about it for a minute and then shook her head. "No, but it was broad daylight; it would've been obvious if I had started looking around." She raised herself up to rest on her elbow as she looked down at him. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" she demanded, excited at the prospect of investigating.

"You're workin' at the bar tomorrow night, so you can just hang around after you're done singin' and when my shift's over we'll walk home together and see if we can get a look at whoever's watchin' us." He paused, thinking. "You said you felt it this mornin'?"

"Yeah." She studied his expression. "You're thinking maybe we should call and cancel with Max and Liz tomorrow?"

Michael hesitated. Good sense would suggest that they cancel the visit, but he might need Max there in case he needed a little alien backup to take care of the guy. "Yeah, but that might tip our hand if we are bein' watched, so it might be best to just let it play out and see what happens."

"Has it felt… I don't know, different?" Maria asked, lost in her thoughts.

"What?" Michael met her gaze, his own curious.

_How could she explain what she meant?_ "Well, I know you're gonna think this is ridiculous, but, have you ever felt like you were being watched, but there was no malicious intent on the part of the person doing the watching?"

He had no idea what she was talking about. "No, bein' watched is bein' watched." He rolled his eyes when she continued to stare at him. "It's different when _you're_ watchin' me, but that's just because…" He had no idea how to explain it. "Hell, Maria, it just _feels_ different when it's you." He shrugged. "With anyone else, it's just bein' watched and I don't like it."

Maria smiled at his nearly unintelligible explanation and settled back into his arms; she had her doubts that he would ever be eloquent in his attempts to share his feelings verbally. But she had everything she needed with him and she had long ago accepted that eloquence and Michael Guerin were never going to go together.

"So, anyway," he grumbled, "we'll scout it out tomorrow night. I'll see if I can't get off a little early and maybe we can catch whoever it is off guard."

*****

He watched from an inconspicuous location, his trained eyes missing nothing as he took in the activity around him. He had been observing her for days now, certain that he had finally located the woman he had been looking for. His search had led him along the coast of California and less than a week earlier he had stumbled upon a piece of information that had directed him to the building across the street.

His gaze was level with the top of his newspaper, his eyes constantly flicking between the photograph pinned under the thumb of his right hand and the woman standing on the other side of the blue pickup truck. Her hair was a little different and the photograph was several years old so he had to take into account the difference in age between the woman she was now and the one she had been when the picture had been taken.

He had stopped by the neighborhood several times over the past few days, spending time in the area to decide what his best vantage point would be to observe her as she came and went. He had been intrigued the night before when the young man across the street had scanned the area without being obvious about it; it was rare that anyone was ever aware of his presence, so it had startled him at first.

He hid a small smile behind his newspaper when the young man motioned for his girlfriend to move to his other side; their communication was nonverbal, but he could see it nonetheless. She was scanning the area under the pretense of holding the door open so he and another young man could carry a sofa into the building. _Their intuition was something he rarely encountered,_ he thought as he glanced at the photograph once more.

He had a gift for hiding in plain sight and it was something that came in very handy in his line of work. He would wait until they went inside before he disappeared once more, blending into the scenery so effortlessly. He would soon need to make his report regarding his findings where the woman was concerned; he was being well-paid to provide this information in a timely manner. He just needed a little more information and then he would begin collecting the data and organizing it into a legible report.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

Maria and Liz stood back and watched their guys as they unloaded the sofa from the bed of the pickup truck Max had borrowed from a friend. "What's up with this scruffy look Max has going on now?" she asked, watching him jump down and grab the end of the sofa resting on the tailgate.

Liz's gaze wandered over her husband's shadowed jaw and the longer hair he was going with these days. "It's a phase," she whispered, her tone hopeful.

"Uh-huh." Maria chuckled. "How long has it been since he shaved?"

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Weeks." She turned around when a young voice yelled from behind them.

"Hey, Michael!"

"That's Jake," Maria said, watching the little boy as he ran over to follow her boyfriend. "He belongs to one of our neighbors and he's completely infatuated with Michael; he follows him everywhere." She reached up to rub the back of her neck when she felt the prickles start again, indicating that someone, somewhere, was out there watching them. She turned her head slowly and her gaze met Michael's.

His eyes moved to the right and she gave just the slightest hint of a nod. She casually scanned the neighborhood as she moved around under the pretense of going up to the building to hold the door open. There were a few kids playing at the playground across the street, some of their neighbors from their building and some of the others in the area were meandering along the sidewalks, and a man casually leaning in the doorway of the bakery on the corner. There was nothing specific that drew her attention to him, but she was certain he was the one; he was probably as tall as Max, thin, and most of his face was hidden behind the newspaper he was browsing as he talked to the woman who ran the shop.

She smiled when she caught Michael's eye and he followed the direction of her gaze to the man she had been covertly watching. She could see him memorizing every detail in the few seconds that he allowed his gaze to sweep over the man at the corner.

"Uh, Michael?" Max was standing at the other end of the couch, his left hand braced on the back as he looked at the sign indicating that the elevator was unavailable for use. "I don't remember you sayin' anything about this when you asked me to help you move a couch."

Michael set his end of the couch down and turned to stare at the sign hanging on the elevator doors in disbelief. He had carefully planned this for a day when there wouldn't be much foot traffic in the building so that they could get this done with as little trouble as possible, but this inconvenience had not been included in his plan.

"Josef!" he yelled, knowing the old man was in his office at the end of the hall. He stalked down to the office and stepped through the open door when the man didn't appear at his insistence.

"How come you aren't loud like Michael?" Jake demanded as he leaned against the back of the sofa and stared up at Max.

Max looked at the little boy and laughed at his question. "Well, not everyone's the same, that'd be boring, don't you think?"

Jake frowned and then turned back to look at Michael. _There was nothing boring about him!_ _The big man was the coolest person in the world! He let him go with him to fix stuff and he didn't yell at him or tell him to go away and leave him alone. He even took him with him to the store where he bought all the 'fix-it' stuff._ "Hey, Michael!" he shouted, and turned to grin up at Max. "I'm real loud, too."

The dark-haired man rubbed the ear closest to the kid and shook his head. "Yeah, you are."

Michael stepped out of the office. "What's up, buddy?"

"How come he's here?" he asked, pointing at Max.

"Because I needed help carryin' this heavy old sofa up to the apartment," Michael answered, oblivious to Jake's annoyed tone.

"I coulda helped you," Jake pouted, jealous that Michael would have another friend help him.

"Well, yeah… but, I'm gonna need you to carry the cushions." He chuckled when the little guy looked at the cushions disparagingly. "This one's a little too heavy for you, Jake."

"But… you don't want my help?"

"I tell ya what," Michael said, leaning over to pull the cushions off of the couch and stacking them at one end. "You can carry these for me, but, if you really wanna help me out, I need some rope to tie this down so we can carry it."

"How come you gotta tie it up?" Jake, a.k.a. the chatter box, asked.

Maria watched him as he scratched his chin and tried to come up with an explanation that the boy could understand. She loved to watch him interact with Jake and he had quickly accepted the little boy's presence and all of his endless questions with a patience that amazed her.

Michael snapped his fingers as he crouched down next to Jake. "Okay, you remember the movie _Transformers_?"

Jake's eyes widened as he looked at the couch. "Really?" he asked, his tone hushed.

"Well, it's not nearly that cool, but it's kinda the same thing. It's a couch, but when you take the cushions off and pull the bottom part out it turns into a bed."

"Huh." Jake crouched down, mimicking the man's position. "It's not as cool as _Transformers_, but it's still kinda cool… can I see it?"

"When we get upstairs. For now, go find me some rope." He stood and turned when Josef called him, nodding absently when Jake informed him that he was on his way to get the rope. "What's up with the elevator?"

"It's just regular maintenance." Josef glanced at the sofa and winced. "You can leave it down here if you wish; the elevator should be working again by this evening."

The old man sounded so apologetic that Michael controlled the urge to shout in frustration. "No, no, that's fine, but thanks, Josef." He wanted to take a nap that afternoon on something that at least _felt_ like a bed.

Max turned to look at the stairs at the end of the hall. "Uh, Michael?"

"Huh?" Michael muttered distractedly. _It was really too bad Jake and the other neighbors were around,_ he thought. _Otherwise, he and Max could've just levitated the damn sofa up to their apartment._

"How many flights of stairs is that?" Max really hoped that Michael's answer would be 'one', but with his luck, it would probably be on the top floor.

"It's a lot," Jake answered helpfully as he joined them with a piece of rope, crouching down beside Michael once again and watching him as he secured the bed frame to the sofa.

"What's with the little boy?" Liz asked as she and Maria stood back and watched the guys.

Maria smiled at Liz's question. It brought back memories of the time in Roswell when Michael had played Santa. He just got along with kids, though it had been a surprise back then. Now, she was used to it and it amused her to see her big Spaceboy attracting children the way he did. They loved him. Maybe children sensed that under his gruff exterior he was just a big kid.

"Jake lives on the second floor with his mom, Ellie; she's a single parent, works two jobs, and she's studying to become a paralegal. He stays with Michael a few afternoons during the week, which helps Ellie out. Her next door neighbor picks him up from school, but instead of dropping him at daycare, she drops him off at our place."

"So, you're saving her money and Michael has some company," Liz summed it up, impressed with Michael's patience.

Maria laughed. _Yeah, Michael had company, and surprisingly enough, it was company that her stonewall liked_. "He eats up all the attention; Jake imitates everything he does, and it's giving him good hands-on experience for when we have kids of our own." She shook her head as she turned her attention back to the guys and their discussion about the best way to get the sofa up the stairs.

"Okay, y'know what? It's my sofa and my apartment, so we're takin' it up the stairs my way," Michael muttered decisively. "Jake, take those cushions and go keep the girls outta the way."

Jake hurried to rush over to stand in front of Maria and Liz. "Michael said you gotta stay outta the way cuz you're girls and this's man's work."

_Oh, no, Jake didn't just say that._ Maria smiled sweetly at him.

Liz bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from busting out laughing. _The little boy wasn't going to get away with that one,_ Liz thought.

"I was thinking about talking to your mom about painting your bedroom a really nice shade of purple."

The little boy made a face and hurried after Michael, complaining about girls and how they ruined everything with their girly colors and plants and ruffly-things. She rolled her eyes when Michael grunted under the weight of the couch and simply mumbled something that Jake took as an affirmation.

*****

They stopped on the third floor to take a break, setting the couch down and leaning on the arms at each end as they tried to catch their breath. They could hear Maria and Liz talking to one of the residents on the floor below, their voices filled with excitement as they made plans to get together for an upcoming Saturday afternoon.

"This is great," Max wheezed. "I'm dyin' up here and my wife's makin' plans to go out with the girls."

Michael chuckled breathlessly. "How long did you really think the honeymoon was gonna last, Maxwell?" He glanced over his shoulder when he heard a door behind him open and he nodded at the elderly woman poking her head out of her apartment. "Afternoon, Mrs. Wagner." He rolled his eyes when she ducked back inside and shut the door, locking it behind her.

"I see you're as popular as ever," Max commented, grinning when the other man scowled at him.

"Why don't you pick up your end of the couch so we can get this thing upstairs before it's time for me to go to work?" They lifted the couch up and started the climb up to the next floor. "Mrs. Wagner's just kinda reserved; not really sure what her story is." He rolled his eyes. "Not yet, anyway, but I'm sure Maria will eventually get it out of her. She's not that comfortable around me, but she opens up with Maria. She's gotta be in her late 60's or early 70's and she doesn't have anyone else, so…" He shrugged, wincing when the heel of his boot caught on the top step and he almost fell backwards before quickly regaining his balance.

"So, you said you're handling the building maintenance?"

"Uh-huh." He looked past Max when he heard Jake's footsteps on the stairs. "Jake, stay back like I told you to," he called when the little boy appeared behind Max.

Jake sighed loudly and moved back out of the way. "Okay."

"Y'know how Maria is; she's been makin' it a point to meet everyone in the buildin' to get them used to us. She's happy about finally havin' a permanent address so she's just really enjoyin' getting to know all the neighbors for once." He turned his head to wipe his forehead against his right arm to keep the sweat from trickling into his eyes. "I can't even tell you how many times we've been invited over for coffee with the various residents in the past month." He sighed with relief when they finally reached the sixth floor and he balanced his end of the couch against the wall while keeping one hand under it as he reached for his keys. "Damn," he muttered. "Maria!"

Max just looked at him. "You really think that's gonna work?"

"Maria!" Jake hollered, his young voice echoing off of the stairwell.

"You were sayin'?" Michael smirked when he heard familiar footsteps rushing up the stairs.

"What's going on?" Maria asked, her gaze moving back and forth between the two men. "Did you drop the couch? Are you hurt?"

Michael rolled his eyes at her. "Did you just ask about the couch first?"

Maria smiled. _Her poor baby was hurt that she had thought about the couch first! As if! She was just asking about the couch because she thought that Michael had a problem with it that was all! _Still, she knew his ego so she asked THE question to soothe him, even though she could see that he was perfectly fine, physically. "Are you hurt?"

Michael growled. She was making fun of him, he could see it and he could hear it in her tone. "I will be if I stand here holdin' this heavy thing for much longer!"

"Then why are you still standing here?" Maria shook her head at him.

He was gritting his teeth as he answered. "Because you've got the keys… you took them this mornin' because you couldn't find yours." He nodded at the door. "Sometime today would be nice, Maria."

Max and Liz exchanged an amused look as their best friends bantered back and forth. There was comfort in knowing that some things would never change no matter how much the two of them settled down.

"Oh, right." She dug the keys out of her purse and unlocked the door, pushing it inward and stepping back. "You guys were running late this morning so you didn't get a chance to see the apartment," she said to Liz as she stood back so the guys could maneuver the couch through the door.

"Where're we goin' with it?" Max asked, hoping they weren't going much further.

"In front of the windows." They had discussed its placement and for once, he and Maria had agreed without benefit of an argument. They had both wanted it there – and it had nothing to do with the fact that there really wasn't anywhere else that it would fit.

Jake barreled through the doors, momentarily getting wedged in the doorframe before Maria gave him a hand and freed him. "Here, Michael, I got the cushions!"

"Hold onto 'em for just a minute." He untied the rope and pulled it through the bottom of the couch, standing up and motioning for Jake to bring the cushions over.

"Aren't ya gonna make it do the transformer thing?" Jake asked eagerly.

Michael opened his mouth to speak but paused to turn around when he heard Liz gushing behind him. She and Maria were discussing… _the wall_.

"Oh, Maria, that wall is perfect!"

"It is, isn't it?" She pointed at the other walls. "And the accent walls really bring it out, don't you think?"

Max cleared his throat and lifted his eyebrows when Michael shifted his attention to him. "Man, what is up with that wall?"

"It's a girl's color," Jake offered helpfully.

"That is the result of a lost argument," Michael grumbled as he reached down to grasp the handle on the metal frame and pull it out. He finished unfolding the bed frame and pulled a pocketknife out to start cutting the plastic covering away from the mattress.

"You _lost_ the argument," Max said slowly. It always made him smile inside to see his best friend being unable to win an argument with Maria. She was a motormouth and she could have been on the debate team, had she gone to college.

Michael watched Max, shooting a mean look in his direction; he was aware that Max was having fun at his expense and he'd bet that the 'purple wall' would come back to haunt him for years and that Max would bring it up a lot in the future. "Have you ever argued with Maria? No, and trust me, you wouldn't be any match for her." He grinned and grabbed a corner of the plastic. "Her argumentative skills come in handy once in a while though." He nodded at the mattress. "That's how she got the store owner to pony up for a new mattress."

"What are you doing?" Maria demanded when the sound of the plastic being cut caught her attention. "That is there to protect the mattress."

"I know you don't think I'm gonna sleep on this thing with plastic on it; y'know how noisy it's gonna be? That might not matter for the first couple of hours, but it's gonna suck the rest of the night; and since it's gonna be a while before we can get an actual bed that's just too much." He grinned unrepentantly when she shot a pointed look at the little boy mimicking his stance.

"Michael!" Maria wasn't known to blush but there was a kid around, for God's sake!

Jake's gaze moved from Michael to Maria and back again, wondering what they were talking about. "Does she talk in her sleep, Michael? My mom talks when she sleeps."

He snickered. "Yeah, she talks in her sleep." He winked at his girlfriend and finished cutting away the plastic. "Loudly." He pulled the plastic away and handed it to the little boy, jumping back out of the way when Maria tried to slap his arm. "Go throw that away."

"Okay. I'm gonna go now 'cause Mom said to come home after I helped you."

Michael ruffled the boy's hair. "Alright, thanks for the help, Jake."

Jake made it as far as the door before he suddenly paused and ran back over to the big man. He tugged on Michael's shirt as he shot a quick glance at Maria.

"What's up?"

He looked at Michael when the man crouched down in front of him and his young features were serious. "You won't let her tell Mom to paint my room purple, will you?" he asked, whispering loudly.

"What? No!" He had no idea why Jake thought that Maria would tell his mother to paint the little boy's bedroom purple. He must have missed something, but with Maria, it was hard to keep up sometimes.

Jake sighed, relieved. "Okay." He turned and hurried back to the door, pausing to stick his tongue out at Maria.

"Michael, we're gonna go next door so I can show Liz the other apartment." She pointed to the couch. "Put a sheet on that before you fold it back up."

"Do we have sheets?"

Maria rolled her eyes at his tone. "Keep it up, Michael." She pointed towards the closet by the bathroom door. "The sheets are in there."

"Put a sheet on that before you fold it back up," Michael mocked after she and Liz had left him alone with Max. He walked over to the closet and pulled the door open, glancing over the shelves until he found a sack with a package containing the new sheets. He was grateful to see that they were at least a solid color and not covered with flowers or something else that was lacking any sense of masculinity.

"So, Michael, where's the rest of your apartment?" Max asked, sitting on one arm of the couch and looking around.

"We're lucky the bathroom's actually separate from the living area. 350 square feet, Max… if it was anyone other than Maria…" He shook his head and opened the package, pulling the sheet out and shaking it open.

Max watched him as he put the sheet on the mattress, amazed at how settled Michael seemed to be and how comfortable he was in the domestic setting. "You guys seem to be doin' well here."

Michael nodded as he put the couch back together and pushed the cushions into place. "We're still settlin' in, but it's startin' to feel like home, y'know?" He sighed as he flopped back on the couch and slouched down, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

He was as relaxed as Max had ever seen him and he couldn't help but hope that nothing came along to disturb the peace he had found. They had spent so long running, fighting their way back to some semblance of normalcy, and they deserved to be happy.

They talked for a little while; about Max and Liz's life in LA, how they were studying and happy, about Isabel's career as a nazi hotel manager in Florida, and about Kyle's cool, carefree lifestyle. Michael didn't mention the mysterious man lurking around. Maybe he wasn't there for them… maybe there was a reasonable explanation for his presence around the neighborhood. Michael intended to wait a little before informing Max; he didn't want to scare him and Liz for nothing. He was going to investigate and at the first sign that the guy was after them, he and Maria were going to leave and alert the others through the system they had come up with, using ads in newspapers.

They were suddenly interrupted by Michael's number one fan. "Hey, Michael," Jake called from the open doorway.

"C'mon in, buddy."

"Mom wants to know if I can stay with you while she goes out for a while," he said, glancing back over his shoulder when his mother appeared behind him. "She brought a pie."

"Oh, hey, Ellie." He sat up and motioned to his friend. "Max, this's Jake's mother, Ellie." He looked back to the woman. "My friend, Max."

Ellie smiled and shook the man's hand. "I didn't realize you had company; I'll just ask – "

Michael waved her words aside. "Nah, Jake can hang out with us; we're just catchin' up."

"Okay, well, I shouldn't be gone more than an hour; I just need to pick a few things up from the store." She started to leave and then turned back to set the covered dish on the counter. "That's for you guys, I hope you like lemon meringue."

"Yeah, that's great, Ellie, thanks," Michael said, salivating at the thought of a good pie. He hoped that Maria hadn't forgotten to buy Tabasco sauce.

She had a quick look but she didn't see the other woman. "Is Maria around? I wanted to check with her to see if you guys needed anything while I'm out."

"She's next door," Michael answered with a wave of his hand.

"Okay." Ellie leaned down to kiss her little boy, rolling her eyes when he squirmed out of her grasp.

"Mom!" he complained, embarrassed by his mother's display of affection in front of Michael and his friend. As soon as she released him he ran across the room and launched himself up onto the couch between the two men.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

Michael took advantage of the lull in the late evening rush to just stand back and watch Maria as she sang to the small crowd with the same enthusiasm she would've projected if she had been on a stage in front of thousands.

"That girl of yours has quite a voice," a whiskey-roughened voice spoke up nearby.

He turned his head to glance at the owner of the bar. "Yeah, she does," he said proudly.

Toni 'T.J.' Johnson was a short, ruddy-faced woman in her mid-forties; her flyaway auburn hair was contained by the kerchief she always wore and she was rarely seen wearing anything besides a 49ers jersey over a pair of fatigue pants. She was a rough woman, having been raised by the sea captain of a fishing boat, and following in his footsteps until an accident at sea had taken her legs below the knees. The bar had been her way to mix back in with society after finding herself jobless and adjusting to life on prosthetic legs. She could make a sailor blush with her swearing, she could drink most men under the table, and the people who frequented the bar knew better than to cross her because she had no qualms about facing off with men twice her size, but despite all of that she had a heart of gold and a soft spot for strays.

"Why's she singin' in a bar instead of someplace where she could make a name for herself?"

He was silent for a few moments. "She knows who she is." He nodded when a customer called out an order and he moved to mix the requested drink without elaborating on his cryptic response.

When Maria's set was finished she left the stage and went back to the tiny room that T.J. had agreed to let her use as a changing room. Once she was dressed in her street clothes she made her way out to the front, taking a seat at one end of the bar so she could watch Michael while he finished his shift.

He worked well with the woman who owned the bar and she knew that his easy acceptance of T.J.'s handicap had been a big selling point during his interview for the job. She had lost count of the number of times he had taken work as a bartender while they had been on the run; it was a job that gave him a certain amount of freedom and allowed him to observe his surroundings without appearing suspicious.

It was nearly two in the morning when Michael punched his timecard and made his way out of the bar with Maria at his side. They walked for a while before carefully crossing over the tracks running through the middle of the street and then turning to walk uphill towards their building. The sound of foghorns cut through the early morning hour, the lighthouse in the bay warning ships of the dangers hidden by the thick fog rolling in over the ocean.

"I love that sound," Maria said.

"I'm just glad we don't live closer to the bay; with as many foggy nights as we have I'd never get any sleep."

She bumped her shoulder against him. "You could sleep through a hurricane, Michael."

"Well, that's probably true," he conceded. "Where d'you suppose she's goin'?" He nodded at the elderly woman stepping out of their building.

Maria turned her head to follow his gaze and her eyebrows lifted in interest when she noticed Mrs. Wagner carefully closing the door to the building's entrance. "I don't know; it is pretty late for her to be out."

Michael turned when a siren blared behind them, the sound quickly fading as a paramedics van raced past the end of their block. He used the opportunity to allow his eyes to sweep across the shadowed areas on the opposite side of the street.

"You feel it?" Maria asked, preoccupied with the fact that the spy was still around. She had almost forgotten about him, but tonight his presence was reminding her that they might have to leave and go on the run again one day.

"Yeah, whoever he is, he's still there." Michael's eyes were still scanning the area with no success. The guy knew how to hide and the weather was definitely on his side.

Maria's worried voice interrupted Michael's perusal. "You haven't been able to spot him?"

Michael sighed, hating to see her scared. He held her close, sending her his love and warmth. "Huh-uh. Between the shadows and the fog I doubt I'm gonna see much of anything unless he moves."

"Is everything okay, Mrs. Wagner?" Maria asked as they paused just before they passed her on the steps.

"It is a bit late to be out and about, isn't it?" the old woman countered with an ironic glance at the couple. "I'm heading down to the theatre to work on some of the costumes and then I'll be on my way to the shelter to get breakfast in the works."

"You're gonna walk down to the theatre at this time of the night by yourself?" Michael questioned. He didn't like to think of the old woman walking around all by herself at night. He had started to like the tenants of their building and he felt like it was his duty to protect them. _Always the protector,_ as Maria joked so often.

Mrs. Wagner surprised them by reaching out to pat Michael's arm as she continued on her way. "Don't you worry, young man; I have pepper spray and I know how to use it."

"Well, that's good to know," he muttered as they stepped inside the foyer and he closed the door after him. He leaned against the wall when Maria stopped at the bank of small mailboxes to check for mail.

"I just can't believe how active Mrs. Wagner is at her age," she said as she pulled the mail out, leaving the keys hanging from the lock in the open door.

Michael listened to her ramble, not really paying much attention as his gaze scanned the street for movement from his vantage point. He knew that Mrs. Wagner worked as a seamstress at the local theatre and that she volunteered at a nearby shelter. The old woman was past the retirement age, but she wasn't content to sit around her apartment and fade away.

He straightened up when he saw something move in the shadows and a moment later a slender man stepped out of the darkness and moved along the sidewalk in the same direction that Mrs. Wagner had taken. "Maria."

Maria turned to look at him and she quickly shoved the mail back in the box, slammed the little door shut, and locked it before pulling the key out. "Did you see him?"

"I'm not sure if it was him or not, but someone's followin' Mrs. Wagner." He opened the door and they stepped back out into the damp air, hurrying down the street in hopes of catching a glimpse of the man who seemed to blend into the shadows so well.

"Why would anyone follow an old woman?" Maria wondered aloud. Okay, so maybe the man wasn't after her and Michael, but he was after someone, and the fact that it seemed to be Mrs. Wagner disturbed her.

"Maybe he's a thief," Michael suggested.

Maria paused to consider his suggestion. She didn't remember anything of value in the old woman's apartment; she had been invited there a few times for tea and cookies. "No one would target her; she doesn't have anything worth stealing."

Michael shrugged. "Hell, I don't know." He held a hand up when he caught sight of the man stealthily creeping along the opposite side of the street, blending in so well with the shadows that it was difficult to follow him.

The theatre loomed up ahead, a large brick building that stood on a corner; the architecture of the building was an older style that stood out among the more modern buildings in the area. When Mrs. Wagner entered the theatre they moved back to stand in the darkened doorway of a closed restaurant and watched as the man they were following slipped back into the shadows.

From their position they could see a tiny light illuminate the man's face for a moment but it was put out before they could make out any of his features.

"Cell phone?" Maria asked, glancing up at Michael.

"Probably. Why would someone follow her? And how would they know to be around at this hour of the mornin'?"

"It's not that unusual for her to go to the shelter early in the morning to get breakfast started before people start coming in, so whoever this guy is he must've been hanging around long enough to establish a pattern." She shook her head and chewed on her thumbnail. "It's not normal behavior for her to be at the theatre this early though…"

"Hey, he's on the move again."

They waited for the man to near the corner before they stepped out of their hiding place and began to follow him again. They reached the end of the street and glanced around the corner to make sure he wouldn't notice them before they made their next move and they both cursed quietly when they saw him climbing into the back of a cab. They leaned back to avoid being spotted when the cab drove past them, taking its passenger towards the heart of the city.

"Damn, we just lost him," Michael muttered.

"Who do you think he was talking to?" Maria knew, of course, that there was no way to even begin to speculate about the conversation or its recipient, but she couldn't stop herself from voicing the query.

Michael shook his head as he moved away from the safety of the building's shadows to pace around in small circles. They were no closer to figuring out who the man was, why he had been following Mrs. Wagner, who he had called, or where he had gone.

_Now what?_ he wondered, pulling his wool watch cap off and running his hand through his hair.

Maria was watching him as he paced, his steps agitated as he tried to sort things out in his head and figure out what their next step should be. He didn't like to be in a situation where they were potentially at risk and he didn't have all of the answers; it made him nervous and edgy. She froze when she caught movement behind him as something moved and Michael recognized her watchful expression before she had the time to utter a single sound.

He flexed the fingers of his right hand as he turned to see what had captured her attention and his right eyebrow lifted when he noticed the man pressed into a doorway, using newspaper for warmth. It was obvious that he was homeless; his appearance was filthy and unkempt, his clothes – what was visible beyond his meager covering – were no match for the cool, damp air, and his expression was wary and suspicious as he watched them.

The homeless were so often overlooked, as if their very existence could be wished into non-existence if they were ignored long enough. Most people passed right by them without even acknowledging that they were there, intentionally oblivious to the indigent who might just as well be invisible for all the attention they were given.

"I'll bet you could use a hot meal and a warm place to sleep," Michael said as he met the man's gaze directly.

The man shifted so that he was sitting up. "Couldn't hurt, I s'pose." He carefully folded his newspapers, stacking them beside him and resting one hip on them to keep them from blowing away in the wind. "What's the catch?"

Michael shook his head. "No catch." He reached into his front pocket and pulled some cash out, not even glancing at it as he took a step closer to the man and held it out. "If you happened to overhear the conversation that fella was havin' a few minutes ago that'd be great, and if not…" He shrugged. "Well, that's okay, too."

The man reached out and slowly took the money, surprised when the stranger offered his hand in a handshake before introducing himself and the woman with him. "I'm, uh, my name's Marty," he said, shocked by the young couple's actions. He gathered his newspapers up, holding them against his body as he stood and shoved the money into one torn pocket. "That Asian guy, he was makin' plans to meet someone tomorrow…" He reached up to scratch his right ear, tugging on it for several seconds. "Two in the afternoon at the um… the… the Blue somethin'…" He snapped his fingers. "The Blue Russian? I think it's a bar a few miles from here."

Maria was surprised when the man stepped down to stand on the sidewalk and she saw just how young he was. Living on the streets had made him look much older than he was and she wondered what circumstances had occurred to bring him to this point in his life. She watched him as he nodded and then moved to walk past them, most likely to find a new place to sleep now that this one had been discovered.

"Marty?"

He turned to look at her.

"There's a shelter over on Sixth and Harper… they'll be putting breakfast on in just a couple of hours." He smiled in thanks and continued on his way and Maria shook her head sadly. "He's younger than us, Michael."

He watched Marty walk away, scanning the area as he went and he knew that a single decision could have resulted in the same type of life for him. Leaving Roswell after Hank's disappearance could have easily led to him ending up homeless and living on the streets. In the end he had been unable to leave Max, Isabel, and Maria, and his love for them had sealed his fate. "Yeah," he muttered gruffly, reaching out to take her hand. "C'mon, let's head back home; we need to get some sleep if we're gonna check things out tomorrow."

The walk back to their neighborhood was much more relaxed and the long day started to catch up with them. The day had been busy followed by a long night at work and then their impromptu investigation when they had spotted the shadowy figure that had been lurking around their neighborhood. As they neared their building they both breathed a sigh of relief and as they remembered that they wouldn't be sleeping on the floor for the first time in nearly a month their pace quickened.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

Sundays were the one day that Michael and Maria tried to keep free from outside interruptions. Unless it was an emergency they didn't work on maintenance requests, they had both made sure to keep their work schedules clear, and they avoided invitations for coffee or brunch by well-meaning neighbors.

It was their day to sleep in, spend a leisurely morning making love, lounging around, and taking their time lingering over breakfast. They spent the afternoons working on the apartment next door or clearing the rooftop garden so it would be ready for planting when the time was right.

Neither of them was ready for it when the telephone on the breakfast bar rang and Maria laughed when Michael grabbed his pillow and pulled it over his head, mumbling about inconsiderate people and their poor timing.

"Just let the machine pick it up, it might not be anything important."

"Yeah, uh, Mr. Guerin, this's Chris in 17C… um, I kinda broke one of the windows over the fire escape and… well, I know it's Sunday and all, but… um, well, I'm sure it'll be okay until tomorrow. Okay, bye."

Michael emerged from the safety of his hiding place when he heard the maintenance request being left on their answering machine and he glanced at his girlfriend. "Y'know he didn't break that window."

"Probably not." Maria knew that the young man who had called lived with his father, a short-tempered man who worked on the docks. The man's temper had resulted in more than one thing being broken around the apartment and she knew that Michael didn't like dealing with him.

He scrubbed his right hand over his face before sitting up. "I should go put a temporary cover over that window until I can get to the hardware store tomorrow."

"Alright." Maria stretched and watched him as he moved around in the small space, dressing so he could go into 'Mr. Fix-It' mode. "I'm gonna take a shower and get ready."

Michael nodded. "Okay, don't worry about breakfast though; we wanna get to the Blue Russian early enough that we won't be obvious or stick out, and they serve food so we can just eat there."

"How d'you know what they serve?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Gotta know who the competition is, babe; it's fierce in my field."

"You're so full of it." Maria snatched his pillow up and threw it at him. "What'd you do? Call T.J. while I was sleeping this morning?" She laughed when he sent her a mock glare as he scooped the pillow up and tossed it back to her on his way out. _Uh-huh, he had made a phone call._

*****

Michael leaned the piece of plywood against the wall and shifted the toolbox to his left hand so he could knock on the door of apartment 17C. He listened as the tumblers were turned on several locks and the chain was slid across and off before the doorknob was turned and the door pulled open.

"Mr. Guerin! Um, wow, that was fast… it's Sunday, so I didn't really think…"

Michael nodded at the kid; Chris Foster was 15 years old, average height, with sandy hair and blue eyes. The teenager reminded him a lot of Max when they were younger and his best friend had been so sure that the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. "So… playin' ball in the house again?"

The boy looked at him and knew that he hadn't gotten anything past the maintenance guy. He shook his head and led the way over to the fire escape and the broken window.

There was glass in a pile on the floor that had obviously been swept up recently and Michael reached out to carefully pull out a couple of larger pieces that were still embedded in the frame. It was easy enough to see that the damage had been done by one of the dining room chairs; it was propped against the wall to support it because one of the legs was missing. A glance at the fire escape revealed the missing leg and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything. He didn't have all the facts, only speculation, and that wasn't enough to make an accusation.

"I know what you're thinkin', Mr. Guerin, and my dad doesn't hit me."

"You don't have to defend his behavior, Chris," Michael said firmly, meeting the teenager's gaze evenly.

The kid shrugged one skinny shoulder as he crossed the room to grab the trash can from the kitchen, dragging it over by the window so he could sweep up the broken glass and throw it away. "I'm not… I mean, I am, but not the way you're thinkin'. My dad's never hit me; he just loses his temper sometimes because things suck since my mom died."

"Oh, sorry 'bout that, I didn't know." _Poor kid, his mother had died and his father was taking his anger and frustration out on his son. Maybe he wasn't hitting Chris the way Hank had hit him, but he was emotionally abusing him, if nothing else. _God only knew what the consequences of Mr. Foster's behavior would have on his son.

Chris pushed the trash can back into the kitchen and put the broom and dustpan away before he joined the maintenance guy once more. "Say, I was wonderin'… your wife's pretty hot…"

Michael paused in the process of running screws through the piece of plywood so that it covered the opening and he turned to look at the kid. He had long since gotten past the panic that used to hit him when people referred to Maria as his wife, and most of the time he didn't even bother to correct them when they did make that assumption anymore. "Are you askin' if she's hot?" he asked, the words mumbled around the screws he was holding in one corner of his mouth.

"Oh, no… no, she's hot," Chris hurried to assure him. "Well, not like, model hot or anything, but she is hot." He blushed when the man raised an eyebrow and he quickly averted his gaze. "No, I figured that since you've got a woman who looks like her that you must know a lot about girls, right?" He didn't wait for an answer before quickly continuing. "I mean, you probably know how to ask 'em out an' stuff… right?"

Michael straightened up at the kid's hopeful tone. "You've got a girl in mind?" _Yeah, he knew all about this stuff!_ He turned back to the window and reached up to grab one of the screws he held between his lips.

"Yeah, but she's not really in my league, y'know?"

Michael shook his head. _The poor guy was starting off on the wrong foot with that way of thinking!_ "That's the wrong mindset, Chris; you can't go into it thinkin' that you're not good enough for her. Women, they want a guy with confidence, they don't want a guy who's indecisive. You've just gotta go in there and tell it like it is."

"So, you think I should ask her out?" Chris asked.

"It's not about what I think; it's about whether or not you're willin' to put yourself out there."

"What if I ask her and she says no?"

Michael really had no experience with that; it had only ever been Maria for him. He packed his tools, picked up the toolbox, and turned to look at the kid. "What if she says yes?" He shrugged. "Yeah, you could get shot down, but you're not gonna know if you don't take the risk, right?"

Chris nodded. "That's true, I guess." He followed the man to the door and pulled it open, leaning against it as Michael stepped out into the hallway. "Thanks for the advice, Mr. Guerin."

"It's just Michael, Chris. Y'know, there's a basketball court in the park around the corner… I shoot hoops there a couple afternoons during the week; you oughta stop by if you don't have anything else to do." He hoped that Chris would take him up on his offer; he didn't like to see any kid going through what he had gone through himself. And hell, he might just gain a basketball partner out of it. Maria tried to play, but she was too short and she had a tendency to play dirty just to win.

*****

Maria looked up when Michael entered the apartment and went straight into the kitchen to wash his hands. "What took you so long?"

"Chris just wanted some advice."

Maria frowned. _Advice? Did that mean that her suspicions about Chris being abused were correct?_ "About the situation with his father?"

"No, he said his old man's never hit him." He shrugged and turned the faucet off so he could dry his hands on a dishtowel. "Said his dad's just been havin' a hard since his wife died."

"Really? I hadn't heard anything about that." _Poor Chris! His mother was dead and he was left with a short-tempered father who was probably using him as a punching bag, despite what he had told Michael._ She looked over at her boyfriend and wondered if he was thinking about his own childhood with Hank. He probably was, but if he wanted to talk about it he would; she would just have to wait. She had learned over the years how to deal with him and she knew that it was one of the subjects that she couldn't use pressure to get him to talk to her.

"Well, they're relatively new to the building, so more than likely the gossips just haven't gotten the information yet."

_Okay, back to the point; what had the kid wanted from Michael? What kind of advice had he asked for, if it wasn't about the situation with his father?_ "So, what kinda advice did he want?"

"He wanted to know about askin' a girl out," Michael answered as he pulled his tee shirt over his head and crossed the room to get a fresh shirt out.

Maria almost choked. _Michael was giving romantic advice? Did he have some unconscious desire to live up to his Vegas alias… Dr. Love? _"Um, and you gave him advice?"

"I know stuff about datin'." He rolled his eyes as he shrugged into his shirt and started buttoning it up.

"And you imparted your wisdom on that poor boy?" Maria shook her head and stepped out into the hall when he held the door open. "What do you know?"

Michael grinned at her as he locked the door. "I got you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, because I wouldn't let you let me go."

He turned around and kissed her. "I still got you."

Maria rolled her eyes as they walked to the elevator. She could just imagine the advice he had given the teenager.


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

The cable car made its way through the residential neighborhoods as it followed the track that would take its passengers to the stop near Fisherman's Wharf. The Blue Russian was located on the infamous Pier 39, an area that attracted a lot of tourists throughout the year, and a Sunday afternoon was no different.

As they stepped off of the cable car at the Aquatic Park stop Michael pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, scanning over the directions he had scribbled down when he had spoken with T.J. earlier that morning. "The bar's on Pier 39, at the other end of the wharf."

They had given themselves plenty of time to reach their destination and get settled in before the man they were following was scheduled to make his appearance, so they didn't have to rush as they walked along one of the most scenic areas in the city. They walked towards the ocean until they reached Pier 45 and then turned north to follow the waterfront.

Michael glanced up when Maria tugged on his hand to get his attention and he followed her pointing finger to the monstrous structure situated several miles offshore. Alcatraz Island, a place that had seen more than its share of suffering and misery; he wondered what it was about such places that drew the interest of so many thousands of people each year.

"Did you know that it's supposedly haunted?" Maria asked.

He just snorted at the notion and shook his head. For all that he had witnessed and been a part of over the years he held no belief in such paranormal things and he knew that it amused Maria to no end. "Haunted, huh? By who?" He glanced at his directions once again before folding the paper up and shoving it back in his pocket.

"It's not just a single ghost." She rolled her eyes at him as they turned to the right as they reached Pier 39 and she could see the bar and grill up ahead. "How can you not believe in things like ghosts?"

"I don't know… because they don't really exist?" His gaze roamed over the exterior of the building, taking in the weathered boards and the faded paint; it was easy to see that the look was intentional, to make it appear as if it had been standing for decades instead of less than five years. He reached out to pull the door open and followed Maria inside.

Maria smiled at the hostess who greeted them pleasantly and led them through the beautifully decorated bar and grill to a table in a quiet corner. She knew Michael was memorizing the layout, mentally mapping the exits and calculating the best escape routes in case they needed to run; it was a habit formed from years on the run and she doubted that he would ever stop doing it, no matter how safe they thought they were.

They took the seats that put the wall at their backs so they could see everything and everyone and no one could come up behind them – another habit that had become ingrained in them. Michael picked up one of the menus and flipped it open, holding it in front of him so that he could peruse the food selection while keeping an eye on things without being obvious about it.

"You've gotta love the lunchtime menu," Michael muttered as he glanced over the prices listed next to the meals. _They'd have to save their date night money for a couple of months to be able to afford to eat dinner at this place,_ he thought. Thankfully, like most places, they had a lunch menu that was much more affordable and they were there at the right time to take advantage of it. His mouth watered when he flipped the menu over to the next page and saw the featured platter of the day – NY Strip steak and lobster tail.

Maria leaned over to see what had his attention and she nudged him with her shoulder. "You should order that, Michael."

Despite the temptation to do just that he shook his head. "Nah, it's more expensive than the lunch menu."

"Well, okay…" She studied the menu for a few minutes, running the numbers in her head. "So, you order that, I'll order the Caesar salad, and we can share. What're they gonna do? Kick us out for splitting our meal?"

"Good point." He shrugged. "Okay, but you pick the sides."

She rested her chin on his shoulder so she could look over the choice of sides. "Hmmm… how about… well, get the coleslaw because I'm ordering a salad and we'll split it, so there's no reason to order two, and then get the wild rice and broccoli."

"You sure you wouldn't prefer the baked potato?" Michael asked hopefully.

"I'm sure _you_ would, but you're not ordering a baked potato that you're gonna shove full of butter, sour cream, bacon bits, and whatever else you can squeeze into it. No, I think the wild rice will be just fine, and I'm sure you'll survive without all the extra butter and salt." She smiled when he grumbled under his breath, leaning back into her own chair when the waiter came over to take their orders.

The waiter scribbled their orders down on the pad he held in his hand and disappeared, returning a few minutes later with two glasses of water with lemon. Once he was assured that they didn't need anything else he moved on to the next table in his section.

The meeting they were there to observe was scheduled to take place in less than an hour and while they waited for their meals they watched for the man from the night before and talked about everyday things like their jobs, the apartment, and several maintenance requests that were pending for the following week.

"Michael."

He knew before he looked up from his meal and towards the entrance that Maria had spotted the man they were waiting for. He cursed under his breath when the hostess led the Asian man to the bar that was close by, but still too far away to overhear a conversation.

Maria studied the man, taking in his well-defined facial features, the intelligent eyes, and his closely-trimmed goatee. He was probably about five foot nine inches tall, probably nearing thirty years old, and while he had a very relaxed demeanor he carried himself with an understated watchfulness and a subtle strength. He was very observant of his surroundings and Maria tipped her head to one side when he smiled at the woman tending bar.

_He was flirting,_ she realized, and it brought a smile to her face.

Michael was confused by her smile. "What?"

She looked at her boyfriend as a calm that she couldn't explain settled over her. "He has a nice face," she commented. "Don't you think?"

He grunted in response and took another bite of his steak. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I don't think he's a bad guy, Michael."

He slowly lowered his fork and straightened up to take another look at the target of their little investigation. "Uh-huh, and you think this because he has a nice face?" He hid a smile when his droll tone earned him an impressive eye roll.

"I'm telling you, Michael, I don't think he's a bad guy; I'd feel it if he was." She shook her head when he snorted disdainfully and motioned to her plate.

"You didn't finish your lobster." He grinned when she pushed it towards him, letting him know that she had eaten everything she wanted. He picked the plate up and set it on top of his since it was already empty and went to work on what was left of her meal. "Maria, the guy was creepin' around in the middle of the night, followin' Mrs. Wagner, so how does that make him a _not_ a bad guy?"

Maria contemplated his evidence for several minutes before nodding. "Okay, yes, he did do all of that, but there must be a reasonable explanation for his behavior."

"If you say so." _She could be so naïve and trusting sometimes!_

"Do not patronize me," she said, kicking him under the table. _Had he forgotten that she had been right about Topolsky, back in high school?_ She could read people and her instincts coupled with her observation skills were telling her that he was a good guy. Michael always saw things in black and white, but he was wrong about this. _Ooooh, she had an idea!_ A slow smile crept over her face.

"Ouch!" Michael rubbed his shin while throwing a mean glare in Maria's direction. _She could be strong when she wanted to be._

"You wanna make a bet on whether or not he's the bad guy?" she asked giddily. _She was so gonna win this one!_

Michael smirked. "Sure, I've got nothin' to lose."

"Um-hmm. If I win you cut your hair and go back to the spikes." Maria nodded, congratulating herself on her idea. She would get her spiky Spaceboy back, and the great thing? He would do it himself because he would never go back on his word. There would be no need to beg and whine to get her way about it.

"Fine, and when I win because he _is_ the bad guy…" He stared at her for several minutes before a slow smile slid over his face. "You have to let me turn your hair a dark red."

"Not gonna happen," she said with confidence.

"Chicken?"

Maria laughed at him. "No, it's not gonna happen because you're wrong." She held her hand out to him, her eyes sparkling in challenge when he accepted it and they shook on the bet.

Michael shook his head. His girl had become incredibly confident over the years. It was time to tone it down a notch or two. Maybe he'd turn her hair green, kinda like the wig she had sported at the Crash festival, so long ago. He had loved her in green, from head to toe. She would have a fit if she had to go outdoors with green hair though. _Okay, green hair at home, red hair outside._ He smiled. _Yeah, he loved that idea!_ "Okay, smarty-pants, since you're makin' predictions, who's the guy that's talkin' to him?"

She shifted in her seat and her gaze traveled over the newcomer as he shook hands with the Asian man and exchanged a greeting before settling on the barstool next to him. He looked to be about ten to twelve years older than the man he was meeting, Caucasian, clean-shaven, slightly overweight, and wearing an expensive-looking business suit.

"He's a client," she said finally, nodding to herself. "Yeah, the Asian guy is a detective or a private investigator and the other guy is a client."

Michael snorted at that and leaned forward to pick up his water glass. He paused to carry on a short conversation with the waiter when he stopped by to gather up their empty dishes and then he turned his attention back to the men at the bar. His eyes narrowed as he watched their interaction and by the time the waiter came back with another round of water and extra lemons he had assembled his theory. "The Asian guy's not a P.I. or a detective; he's watchin' Mrs. Wagner and studyin' her patterns because he's casin' the area. The guy he's meetin' is an antiquities dealer and he somehow knows that she's collected a lot of antiques over the years." Information that Michael knew first-hand because Maria had made him go with her for tea one afternoon a few weeks ago.

Maria shook her head as he revealed his hypothesis, chewing on a piece of ice to hide her amusement at his interesting, well-thought out, and obviously incorrect theory. "You are sooo wrong, Michael." She had been to visit with Mrs. Wagner on more than one occasion and the old woman had quite a collection of antique pieces that she had gathered over the years, but she couldn't imagine that any of it would have an antiquities dealer and a thief meeting in collusion over it. She reached over and gently tugged on the ends of his hair, smiling when he turned to look at her. "It'll be good to see you with the spikes again."

"Well, we're in agreement over one thing at least…" Michael squeezed two of the lemon slices into his water and stirred it before looking back at the two men in question.

"What's that?"

"He obviously hasn't been watchin' us." _That was a relief!_ It meant they wouldn't have to drop everything and abandon a life that they had just started. It would have broken Maria's heart to leave; she had settled in so well here in San Francisco.

"Yeah. I just wish we knew what they were talking about." _Too bad Michael didn't have super hearing,_ Maria thought regretfully.

"I don't think we're gonna get any answers here," Michael said when the men stood, each of them placing a few bills on the counter to cover their tab. "You take care of the check and I'll follow them outside; maybe they'll say somethin' of interest in the parkin' lot."

"No way, buddy. You take care of the check and I'll follow them. I have a better chance of blending in than you do."

He growled low in his throat, not liking her suggestion, but knowing that she was right. It wasn't that he didn't trust her to be careful because he did; he just didn't know enough about these men to know what they were up against. It would only take a couple of minutes to take care of their check, but under the right circumstances that was all it would take for him to lose her. He took her arm when they reached the lobby where the cashier was taking money from another patron. "Don't get too close to them, Maria."

"I'll stay by the building as long as possible," she assured him, quickly kissing him and slipping outside to follow the men.


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**

Maria was careful to keep her distance, aware that even though she was certain the men were of no danger to them personally they didn't have enough information to risk being careless. She eased around the side of the building that led to the parking lot in back, watching as the man in the suit shook the other man's hand before stepping into a waiting taxi cab. She pressed back against the building when the cab drove past, the passenger looking at something in his hand and not in her direction.

She shifted closer to the edge of the building, peering around to look for the Asian man. He was unlocking the door on a small sports car and her eyebrows lifted in interest when he paused and lifted his head to glance around. She knew he couldn't see her from where he was standing, but she would almost swear that he could tell he was being watched, and that only fortified her belief that he was some sort of investigator.

"Hey."

Startled, she turned her head when Michael spoke, his voice low and gruff so he wouldn't be overheard. Her heartbeat calmed down when she recognized him. "Hey. There was no need to worry about blending in; they walked to the parking lot, shook hands, and the suit got in a cab and left."

Michael leaned around her to look for the Asian man, his gaze quickly sweeping over the parking lot while leaning closer to Maria and whispering in her ear, "What about the other guy?"

"He was getting into the little silver sports car in the third row."

He squinted in an attempt to see through the windshield of the car, trying not to let Maria's proximity distract him. The temptation was too great though, and his hand wandered around her waist of its own volition, caressing her hip. _Hmmm, she smelled so good. What was that? Raspberry? She changed her perfume every day._ "I don't see him."

"Quite possibly because he is behind you," a slightly accented voice spoke up from behind them.

Maria emitted a little scream of shock and surprise when she heard the male voice followed by the muttered "fuck" that came out of Michael's mouth, unaware that he was blaming her for his lapse in attention. They glanced at each other, exchanging a look of disbelief when they realized that the man they had been following had gotten the drop on them.

"You've been following me," he said, seeming amused by his discovery. "I must admit, you're very good, but I'm curious about why you would be following me?"

"Why would you be followin' an old woman?" Michael countered.

A slow smile graced the man's features as he watched them, tilting his head to one side as his eyes traced over the woman's expressive face. "You have a theory," he guessed.

"Why don't you just tell us why you're followin' Mrs. Wagner and we'll see if her theory and your story match." Michael crossed his arms over his chest as he assumed a challenging pose and it only irritated him further when the man didn't seem to be the slightest bit intimidated.

"Do the two of you watch over all of your neighbors this closely?"

"Hey, we're the ones askin' the questions, buddy," Michael snapped, still irritated that the guy had managed to sneak up on them.

"So you are," the man said in an agreeable tone as he reached into his pocket, apparently unfazed by Michael's bad mood. "I can only imagine what nefarious activities you must think I'm involved in, but I assure you…" His gaze shifted up to meet the young man's eyes when he noticed that his right hand was flexing. "I'm only reaching for my wallet to show identification; there's no need for us to engage in a fight."

"We'll see," Michael muttered, watching every move the man made.

Maria leaned in closer when he opened his wallet and held it out towards them. She studied the permit on the opposite side of his drivers' license before glancing up at him. "Kwai-Chang Li… and you're a private investigator. How interesting."

Michael groaned silently when she looked up at him and grinned smugly. "You still haven't said why you're followin' Mrs. Wagner."

"No," Kwai-Chang answered slowly as he pulled a card out of his wallet before putting it back in his pocket, "and I'm not going to. I won't compromise my ethics, the integrity of my investigation, or my obligation to my client to appease your curiosity." He held a hand up when the young woman started to protest. "I can assure you that your neighbor is in no danger." He held his business card out and smiled when it was accepted by the young woman. She took him by surprise when she shook his hand and introduced herself and her boyfriend.

"So, your name," she started. "Kwai-Chang… that sounds familiar." Her brain was scrambling to remember where she had heard the name before. _It was very familiar, but damn, she just couldn't figure out where she had heard it. The guy had better tell her or it would drive her insane trying to find out why the name was so familiar._ It suddenly came to her and she tried to not burst out laughing. _Of course, how could she have forgotten that?_

The man laughed when he saw the humor lurking in her green eyes; it was obvious she had made the connection and now she was testing him. "Yeah, I know, like the guy in Kung Fu, right? My parents loved the show and since we have no control over what our parents decide to name us…" He glared at Michael when he snickered.

"It's a perfectly lovely name," Maria said, and the comment earned her a smile.

Kwai-Chang smiled at the young woman who seemed to have an appreciation for his first name. _So, she knew the old television show, huh?_ "My company address is listed on my card; if you'd like, you can stop by tomorrow afternoon around one and as long as my client is comfortable with it, he can explain his interest in your neighbor and put your minds at ease."

"Uh-huh, and if your client doesn't agree?" Michael asked.

Kwai-Chang shook his head. "I think your concern for Mrs. Wagner will be enough incentive for him to speak with you. He's a good man and he'll want to set the record straight; he won't want anyone thinking he's a threat to an elderly woman."

Michael glanced over Maria's shoulder as he lifted her right hand so he could read the address on the man's business card. "Your office is located in Chinatown?"

"Well, my partner and I got some strange looks when we were looking for an office over in Little Italy." He grinned when Michael's head shot up and they stared at each other for several seconds. "Seriously though, my partner's very traditional and we both have a lot of pride in our culture, so setting up shop in our own neighborhood just made sense."

Maria decided to bring up a very important subject… important to her anyway. _It meant that the spikes were coming back!_ "So, just to clarify things, you're a private investigator and that man you were meeting was your client?"

Kwai-Chang's brow furrowed into a frown of confusion and it only deepened when the young man laughed out loud.

"You might as well humor her," he suggested, already knowing that he had lost the bet.

"Yes, that would be correct," Kwai-Chang said. _It must be a private joke between the young couple,_ he thought.

Maria nodded, satisfied that she had been proven right. Again. "We'll see you tomorrow at one then, Mr. Li."

"Call me Kwai-Chang, please."

Maria nodded and took Michael's hand in hers. "Until tomorrow then."

The private investigator watched them walk away, intrigued by the possibilities that were racing through his mind. He was amazed that they had been able to follow him without his knowledge and that was something very rare. His fingers stroked over his chin thoughtfully and when they turned the corner, taking them out of his sight, he slid into his car and started the engine.

*****

Michael slouched down in one corner of the couch and grabbed the remote to turn the small television in the corner on. He stretched his long legs out, found a game to watch, and let the remote rest on his stomach. His eyes shifted to follow Maria when she crossed the room in front of him but a moment later he was watching the game again.

"You might as well lie down," she suggested with a roll of her eyes. "You're gonna fall asleep."

"No, I'm not," he denied even though he could feel the after-lunch drowsiness beginning to settle over him.

Maria shook her head and went to answer the door when someone knocked on it. She pulled the door open and smiled when she saw Josef standing in the hallway. "Hi, Josef, how are you?" She took a step back and made a 'come in' gesture. "Would you like to come in?"

"Good afternoon, Maria," he greeted, his slightly accented voice revealing his good mood. "I'm fine, thank you for asking. I had something to ask you, if you have a few minutes?" Josef slowly entered the apartment, choosing to stay in the entryway. He sent a cautious glance towards Michael, but the young man appeared to be sleeping soundly, so the timing seemed to be perfect. "I was wondering if you had any thoughts about getting a pet?"

That woke Michael up and he shook his head. "No." _No fuckin' way! He didn't want an animal in his apartment._

"Well, we hadn't discussed a pet yet," Maria said, ignoring Michael's adamant denial.

"We haven't discussed it because we're not getting one," he said as he sat up.

She went on as if he hadn't spoken. "You must have a reason for asking…"

Josef's eyes moved from Maria to Michael and back again, reluctant to continue in the face of the young man's negative response. But, he didn't really have much of a choice now. "Yes, well, a friend brought this little character by, but I'm really in no condition to have such an active pet underfoot," he said as he pulled his right hand from behind his back to show her the small fluffy, gray and white kitten.

"Oh," Maria squealed enthusiastically, "look at the kitten! Oh, he's sooo sweet!"

Michael rolled his eyes when she continued to gush over the fur ball.

"Isn't he just the sweetest thing, Michael?" She giggled when the kitten mewed and then started to purr.

Michael glared at the creature when it played his girlfriend like a finely-tuned instrument. It was clever, he'd give the animal that much credit, but it wasn't moving in and sharing his space. "Maria, it's gonna shed everywhere, get into everything, and tear stuff up."

"Only for a while; until he grows out of the kitten stage." She rubbed her chin over the kittens head when he burrowed up against her neck. "And besides, if he tears anything up you can fix things the Czechoslovakian way, Mr. Fix-it."

_Damn it, he was losing the fight!_ Michael thought when she turned and started asking Josef more questions about the little beast that was staring at him over her shoulder. He shook his head when she held the kitten up and started talking to it as if it could actually understand a single word she was saying.

_Correction, he had just lost the fight._ He watched Josef walk backwards to the front door and he shook his head as he shot the old man a look of annoyance. "I won't forget this, Pops."

"Oh, leave him alone, Michael," Maria chastised, closing the door after Josef had made his escape. He had promised to bring up the supplies his friend had dropped off with the animal just as soon as he returned from his afternoon walk. "What should we name him?"

Michael ignored her in favor of the game on the television. He wasn't participating in the name game because they weren't keeping the cat. He sighed, sounding completely put out when Maria started pacing back and forth between him and the television. "Maria, you're blockin' the TV," he complained.

"Help me come up with a name, Michael."

He pushed himself as far back into the cushions as he could get when she stopped directly in front of him and held the cat just a few inches from his face. He frowned at the blue eyes that stared back at him, the slow-blinking, lazy gaze annoying him even further. "Oh, I don't know… how 'bout Hemorrhoid?" he asked.

"Michael!" Maria quickly pulled her little furry friend back against her body, cradling it as she stroked its head and made little cooing noises.

"What? I can already tell the damn thing's gonna be a pain in my ass, Maria."

She rolled her eyes and rubbed the kitten's soft fur. "We're _not_ gonna name him that," she muttered insistently. "Y'know, I don't think I've seen such a cute cat since… wow, since we were in Thailand." She looked down at her boyfriend, amused by his sullen expression. "We had some really great times there, didn't we? That was a great country and I miss it a lot."

Michael was just opening his mouth to speak when she suddenly jumped up and down, shouting loud enough that even the kitten's ears pinned back flat against its head. He smirked at the look of shock on the creature's face and he settled back to enjoy it while it lasted.

"We can name him Siam! D'you remember Achara telling us about the old name for Thailand?" She moved to stand next to Michael, gently stroking the kitten as she stared outside, lost in thought.


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 9**

Michael glanced up at her, seeing that her mind had taken her back in time to a country whose people had welcomed them and accepted them as part of their extended family. They had lived in Songkhla for nearly five months before it had become necessary for them to go on the run again and while there they had made a very good friend of Achara, one of the locals.

_The salty air had mingled with the scent of raw fish and damp vegetation as Maria had walked along the little outdoor market that lined the streets close to the beach. She and Michael had only been in Songkhla for about a week and they were still getting accustomed to the daily routine of life in the sleepy little village. It was a nice change from the constant rush of some of the larger cities they had taken refuge in and they were enjoying the more sedate pace of the seaside village._

_They had taken a temporary residence at one of the smaller hotels while they looked for jobs and Michael was spending the morning down at the docks, checking out possible employment opportunities. She was taking a short break from her own job search to pick up something for dinner since the best time to shop at the market was mid-morning. She was leaning forward to look over a variety of fish laid out on a bed of seaweed, glancing to the side when she heard the sound of someone gently clearing their throat._

_A small woman with long, black hair and friendly eyes had been watching her, smiling gently as she shook her head. She gave just the slightest nod of her head and moved away and the man behind the fish cart looked annoyed when Maria followed her further down to another cart that displayed the same type of fish._

"_I would avoid his goods," she said, her voice softly accented._

_Maria's eyebrows rose in interest and she glanced back at the man in question. "Why?"_

"_He is not… what is your word…" She smiled after a moment. "He is not fair in his dealings."_

"_Oh, thank you." She returned the woman's smile and they shook hands in the traditional American greeting. "I'm Maria."_

"_My name is Achara," the woman said and she turned to motion to the market around them. "You have picked the best time to visit the market, but you must always remember to avoid Kiet's cart." They walked along the street and the woman gave her a brief introduction to the different peddlers and made sure to point out those who should be avoided. _

_By the time they had reached the opposite end of the street Maria had learned quite a bit about the woman; she was in her mid-twenties, was the eldest of seven children and was raising her six brothers and sisters after losing her parents a couple of years earlier, and she managed one of the local hotels near the beach. _

_She had offered to make some calls to some of the local businesses that she had personal dealings with to help the young couple find employment and as they were exchanging their contact information she recognized the address the younger woman was using. "You're staying at the Seaside Hotel?"_

"_We haven't found anything else yet."_

_Achara had simply shook her head and smiled before reaching for the paper she had just handed Maria, writing down a name and phone number. "Call Sunee at that number; I'll let her know to expect your call. Her family owns a small beach house that is not in use now that the tourist season is over, so she may be willing to rent it out to you."_

_The two women had gone their separate ways after agreeing to meet for lunch at the hotel where Achara worked the next day. Maria felt much better as she walked toward the docks where Michael would be waiting for her, ready to share her happy news with him._

Michael eyed the kitten suspiciously when Maria placed him on the floor and it didn't take long before the animal had found something to amuse himself. He batted around a crumpled work order that had missed the trashcan, knocking it across the room and then chasing after it. The newly-named Siam crept along the wall, stealthily stalking the unsuspecting piece of paper and then pouncing on it at the very last second.

Maria laughed at the kitten's antics as she sat down beside Michael, leaning against his side as his left arm settled across her shoulders. "Oh, c'mon, Michael, admit it, he's cute."

He grumbled under his breath and tried to focus on the football game on the television. This wasn't his first run-in with a feline that Maria thought was cute, but the last time the damn thing hadn't had a chance of becoming their housemate. _Well, that wasn't exactly true,_ he thought. Their neighbor back in Songkhla had owned the cat, but the fur ball had always found a way to sneak into their house and it had been fascinated with his side of the bed… his pillow, to be more precise.

He had lost count of the number of times he had removed that stupid cat from their room and the damn thing had not been easy to convince. It had dug its claws into the pillow, the sheets, his hand, and anything else it could latch onto in an effort to avoid being displaced. The entire time they had lived there he had been forced to defend his right to sleep on a bed free of cat hair, and Maria had been little help since she had thought it was sweet that the animal had taken a liking to him.

"I hope you don't think that thing's sleepin' in bed with us," he said finally.

"Well, he can't sleep on the floor, Michael." She smiled when Siam grew tired of chasing the paper ball and he walked over to her boyfriend's outstretched legs, sniffing the seam that ran along the side of his jeans. The kitten stood up on his hind legs when Michael shifted and Siam yowled loudly before sinking his claws into Michael's leg to pull himself up.

Michael hissed in surprise when the kitten's claws dug into his flesh and he reached down to wrap his hand around the animal, carefully extracting its nails from his leg. He held the kitten up in front of his face, meeting its bored gaze with a scowl. "You an' me, we're gonna go a few rounds, I can already tell."

Siam mewed loudly, protesting the treatment he was receiving.

"Oh, Michael, stop threatening him." She rolled her eyes when he and Siam engaged in a staring contest. "Y'know, I think I'll run down to Josef's office and use his computer."

Michael refused to break the animal's stare, knowing it was just waiting for him to look away or blink first; it was an alpha male thing and if he gave in first the kitten would think he was the boss. "You gonna email Achara?" he asked, knowing the two women had managed to keep in contact through emails.

"Yeah, I think so; it's been a while and I'm sure she has news. I know _I_ have news to share." She leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. "You boys behave yourselves while I'm gone."

"Oh, he's gonna behave." Michael shook his head, careful not to break eye contact with the creature he held in his hands. "And you're not gonna win," he growled when he heard the door shut after Maria.

He and Siam were going to come to an understanding before the day was over.

*****

The cable car rolled to a gentle stop at the intersection of California and Grant, letting its passengers off and waiting for new passengers to board before the bell clanged and the car took off, continuing west on its way to Van Ness Avenue. The smell of various foods cooking in the small restaurants and the incense burning in the temples combined to create an interesting and distinct aroma.

Maria paused to look up at the church that sat on the corner, taking in the large structure. St. Mary's Church had originally been built in 1854 with the intent of teaching the Catholic religion to the Chinese immigrants and it had been destroyed in an earthquake in 1906. It had been rebuilt three years later and become registered as an historical landmark about 60 years later.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" she asked, her gaze tracing over the building. She was awed by the structure and she remembered reading that the foundation was built from granite that had come all the way from China.

Michael grunted noncommittally and glanced at his watch. "We should get movin' if we're gonna make it to that detective's office in time for the meetin'."

She rolled her eyes and fell into step beside him as they followed Grant Street deeper into Chinatown. She knew he didn't like being someplace he wasn't familiar with and the area they were in was very crowded, which made it more difficult to contain any situation that might arise. Her eyes wandered over the markets lined up on the street, vendors and patrons negotiating and arguing over freshness and prices.

"Oh, Michael, look!" She tugged on his hand to pull him to a shop on the corner, pointing at the statues displayed in the window. She motioned at a gold-colored statue of Buddha as she looked up at him. "We sooo have to bring Kyle here when he comes for a visit."

Michael shook his head at her enthusiastic ramblings, his eyes cautiously scanning the sea of people constantly swarming around them. Kyle and Isabel were living in Florida, platonically sharing a place while they worked to establish themselves. He knew Kyle would have been ecstatic if Isabel had been receptive to moving their relationship into romantic territory, but she had remained steadfast in her belief that they were better off as friends. It had taken several years, but he had finally accepted that she wasn't going to change her mind and he had settled for being her best friend and confidant. "Yeah, I'm sure Iz would just love to have her apartment junked up with a bunch of Buddhist stuff."

"It's _their_ apartment," she said. "They both live there and they both pay equal portions of the rent."

He snorted. "Try tellin' Iz that they share the apartment equally."

Maria shoved him with her shoulder and took his hand again as she laughed. She could easily picture Isabel going off on a rant if Kyle came back home with a bunch of statues, incense, and other Chinese offerings with the intention of redecorating their apartment. "Are you kidding? I value my life. I'm just saying that Kyle would love to visit Chinatown."

"We'll bring him down here when he comes to visit," he agreed. He raised his free hand when they neared their destination and they turned onto Waverly Place.

"It's so beautiful," Maria said, understanding why they called it 'the Street of Painted Balconies' as her gaze moved over the colorful balconies and buildings that lined the street. She glanced at the business card Michael was looking at and she raised her head to glance at the addresses on the buildings. "It'll be further down the street."

They located the building about halfway down the block, sandwiched in between a dry cleaners and a travel agency. The door opened as they were walking up the few steps that led to the front door of Kwai-Chang's business and they stepped to one side to let a Chinese woman pass. She nodded politely and smiled shyly as she hurried down to the street and headed back towards Grant Street.

Michael reached for the door and pulled it open, holding it so that Maria could enter ahead of him. They stepped into the lobby, glancing around at the interesting and eclectic mix of traditional Chinese and modern American décor.

"May I help you?" a heavily-accented feminine voice inquired.

They turned to face the receptionist and Maria smiled as she walked right up to the woman's mahogany desk. "Maria DeLuca and Michael Guerin; we're here to see Kwai-Chang. We have a one o'clock appointment with him."

The Chinese woman accepted the business card that Maria held out to her; she was medium height with long black hair and dark eyes that seemed to miss nothing as they scanned over the couple without being insulting or invasive. She nodded and picked up the phone on her desk, dialing an extension and carrying on a short conversation. When she was finished talking she replaced the receiver and smiled at them.

"Please have a seat," she said, motioning to the comfortable chairs that sat against one of the walls across from her desk. "Kwai-Chang will be with you shortly."

Maria stood up, facing the wall as she studied a painting that hung on the wall while Michael sat in a chair in the corner, flipping through a magazine that he had picked up from the stack on the table between a couple of the chairs. She turned around when a door opened and she heard Kwai-Chang's voice interspersed with another accented voice that she didn't recognize.

"You're certain Mr. Young is comfortable with this?"

"Of course, Wen," Kwai-Chang laughed. "You have to learn to relax." His voice became more pronounced as he entered the reception area with the man he had been speaking with. The second man was about the same height, his long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, his dark eyes assessing behind the wire-framed glasses he wore.

"Michael, Maria, somehow I knew you'd be here today." Kwai-Chang turned to motion to the man standing beside him when they reached the couple. "I'd like you to meet Wen Liu, my business partner. And, you've already met my younger sister Mei-Ling," he said and nodded at the young woman behind the reception desk.

"Oh, wait… you're the couple that managed to get the drop on my brother?" Mei-Ling's smile was mischievous as she hurried around her desk to join the others. She had overheard her brother and Wen discussing the unexpected occurrence the night before when they had all been together at her parents' home for dinner. "You have no idea how rare that is!"

Maria smiled when she saw Kwai-Chang scowl at his sister. "That's good, I suppose. It would take all the fun out of it if he was discovered all the time."

"Don't you have appointments to make?"

Mei-Ling just smiled sweetly at her brother and shook her head. "No."

"Do you need to go to lunch?"

"Hmmm… no, Jun went to get lunch," she said, mentioning her older sister. "She didn't have a shift at the hospital today, so she's coming back here to have lunch with me." She raised one eyebrow as she waited for him to come up with his next reason for her to leave them alone.

Kwai-Chang shook his head, knowing after years of dealing with his younger sisters when it was best to just leave things alone. "We'll just go to my office…" He chuckled as he suddenly changed his mind. "On second thought, we'll use Wen's office because you can't listen outside of his door. Just let us know when Mr. Young arrives; he should be here within the next half hour or so."

Mei-Ling just rolled her eyes at her brother and went back to sit behind her desk. She couldn't explain it, but she had a feeling they would be seeing more of the couple after today.

Michael and Maria followed the two investigators through a second door on the opposite side of the room. Wen led the way over to a sitting area and he and Kwai-Chang sat in a set of leather chairs as the couple sat on the matching couch. Michael leaned forward, sitting on the edge of the couch as his fingertips trailed along the edge of the mahogany box lying open in the center of the table. He scanned over the tiles lying inside, the intricate symbols carved into them created by someone with a steady hand and an eye for detail. "This is a beautiful set," he said, nodding in appreciation.

Wen's right eyebrow twitched, the only physical indication that he was surprised. "You play Mahjong?" he asked, interested.

"Yeah… never with a set of this caliber, but, yeah."

Maria smiled as her boyfriend discussed the game with the detective, a man who, based on his more reserved behavior and the way his office was decorated, was obviously the more traditional of the two. While Michael wasn't someone who normally played board games, he had become fascinated with Mahjong while they were in Asia. It was a game that required skill and strategy, and it had appealed to his sense of competition.

Kwai-Chang hid a smile as the two men debated back and forth over different types of Mahjong before finally agreeing that Classical Chinese Mahjong was the best form of the game. There wasn't a large following for that particular form of the game and now that Wen had discovered someone else who had an appreciation for it, he would be requesting a future match.

The conversation was finally interrupted when the intercom on Wen's desk buzzed and he got up to answer it. After a moment he replaced his phone and cleared his throat quietly. "Mr. Young has arrived; Mei-Ling is showing him in."


	10. Chapter 10

**Part 10**

Randolph Young entered the office, smiling politely and thanking the young woman who had escorted him inside before turning to face the detectives he had hired nearly a month earlier. He hadn't expected the phone call he had received the night before from Mr. Li, but he had appreciated learning that there were nice people who seemed to genuinely care for the woman he had spent so many years searching for.

He shook hands with the young couple when Mr. Li made the introductions and he took a seat in a chair that Mr. Liu brought in and placed near the table they were gathered around. "So, Mr. Li has informed me that the two of you had concerns about why he was hired to follow Mrs. Wagner around."

"I'm sure you can understand our concerns, Mr. Young," Maria said, sitting forward on the couch. "Mrs. Wagner is an elderly woman and she should know that someone is following her."

He smiled warmly and nodded. "I assure you, Mrs. Wagner is safe from harm; the truth is, I came here a while back to search for her, but my knowledge of investigating is limited at best, so I found a reputable detective agency and hired them to locate her."

"What is your interest in her?" Michael asked, not interested in dragging the explanation out.

Mr. Young took a deep breath before starting to tell his story. "When I was a boy, only about three years old, my mother left my father and me; I remember very little from that time, so I had no reason to doubt him. I grew up, went to college, married, and had children of my own, and I never really gave it much thought. But, my father passed away about a year ago…"

Maria reached out to take his hand when he momentarily choked up. "I'm so sorry," she murmured softly.

He nodded gratefully and gathered himself together so he could continue. "When I was going through the things in his office, I found old payment receipts and letters from an institution in Seattle. Apparently, my mother didn't just leave us as I was led to believe; she was pregnant and after a very difficult time, she miscarried. It devastated her and she was unable to hold things together, and eventually she just stopped functioning altogether. My father had her committed and I think he held out hope that she would begin to heal, that she would come back to him, because we lived in Seattle until I was twelve years old."

"You left Seattle then?" Maria asked.

"Yes, my father's job took us to the East Coast and that's where I've spent most of my life. So, when I discovered that she hadn't left us the way I believed I began to search for her. I flew to Seattle, met with the director of the institution, but my mother was no longer a resident there and he had no information about her. But, he was able to put me in contact with a very nice lady who had been a nurse when my mother was a patient and I was able to locate her without too much trouble."

"That's what led you to San Francisco?"

He smiled at the inquisitive young woman. "Yes. She said that my mother had been released years earlier and that she had talked about this area quite a bit, so I took a chance on following that lead to the city. Of course, once I got here I realized that I had no idea what to do next, and that is how I ended up hiring these fellows," he said, motioning to the detectives.

"So, did Mrs. Wagner have family here or somethin'?" Michael asked curiously.

"My father's business kept him on the move and they lived in San Francisco for a while; it's where I was born. She was fascinated by the culture here, the history, the people, and she loved being so close to the ocean."

"Mrs. Wagner searched for her husband and son for years after being released," Kwai-Chang said, picking up the story, "but, she was unable to locate them, and after a while she came to San Francisco and settled here. She's worked as a seamstress at the theater for years now, but she's never given up on finding her son."

Maria had tears in her eyes as she studied the man who had been separated from his mother for so many years and had finally found her. "And now you've found her; that's such a beautiful ending to your story." She patted his hand. "She's going to be so happy to see you."

"Really?" Randolph had been looking forward to seeing his mother, but it was with such a mix of excitement and trepidation. _What if she wasn't interested in opening up that chapter of her life again?_

"She's such a kind, giving woman," she assured him. "Mrs. Wagner will be so excited. And you said you have children, too? She adores children, so grandchildren will make her so happy."

Michael watched Mr. Young as he told his story, wondering briefly what it would have been like if he could have been reunited with his mother. He had never known his mother; he had no memory of Rath's alien mother and he had certainly never had any type of mother figure on Earth. He let those thoughts pass as he glanced at Maria, knowing without needing confirmation that this meeting would bring up thoughts of her mother, if it hadn't already.

*****

Maria entered the apartment ahead of Michael, gathering Siam's sleepy little body up off of the couch where he had been lying in a patch of sunlight, and cuddling him close. She smiled when the kitten mewed in greeting and then settled down contentedly when she sat down on the couch and stroked his soft fur.

Michael checked the messages on the answering machine, flipped through the stack of mail they had collected on their way in, and then sat down next to Maria, pulling her into his arms. He had watched her throughout the meeting, seeing that she was touched by Mr. Young's story, and realizing that the man's search had made her think of her own father.

"You thinkin' about your dad?" he asked finally.

"I was, for a little while, yeah."

"You wanna look for him?"

Maria looked up at him when he spoke and she knew it had taken an effort on his part to make the offer. He didn't understand why her father had left anymore than she did, but he didn't think the man deserved to know her after the way he had abandoned her. "No, I've made peace with my past and I'm very happy with the present. There was a time when that was something that might have made a difference in my life, but now?" She shook her head. "I don't need my father." She raised her head to kiss him. "I have everything I need right here."

"As long as you're sure," he said, holding her close as she settled against his side again. He glared at Siam when the lazy blue eyes locked on him for another staring contest and he wondered how many times they were going to go through this before the fur ball realized that only one of them was going to rule the sixth floor… and that was him, not some little four-legged bag of fleas.


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Michael stood back to survey the shelves that he had just finished building on the dreaded purple wall, admiring their pure natural pine coloring. _They looked perfectly fine like that,_ he thought, wondering if he could get away with leaving them unpainted.

"The answer to your question is no," Maria said as she sailed past him on her way to the kitchen to check on dinner.

"What question?"

"Make them purple, Spaceboy."

He glanced at her over his shoulder and then back at the shelves. "I think they look kinda good like this, Maria… y'know, with the," he swallowed hard, "purple wall kinda accenting them in the background."

"Good try, but it's not gonna work." She closed the oven door and placed the oven mitt on the counter before adjusting the temperature and walking into the living area. "You agreed to the shelves being purple."

"Yeah, but, you weren't playin' fair, Maria… I wasn't exactly in a position to say no at the time."

Maria smirked as she came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest. She could feel his heart begin to pound at her nearness and she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "You wanna negotiate?"

He growled low in his throat when her right hand slid down over his stomach and she grazed her fingernail over his zipper. "Negotiate, huh?" _Hell, yeah, he could negotiate!_

Maria popped the snap on his jeans, her fingertips teasing his skin, and she bit back a grin when he made a sound of agreement. _He sucked at negotiating!_ "Purple shelves first," she said, taking a step back from him. "Then we can do whatever you want."

"Purple shelves," he muttered derisively. But, he could always change them back later. He touched his forefinger to the wall behind the shelves and then touched each shelf, watching the color slowly creep along until every inch of the beautiful pine was covered in the hideous shade of purple. "Okay, my part's done," he said as he scooped her up and carried her over to the couch, brushing Siam out of the way before dropping her on the cushions and pouncing.

He shoved the kitten away when he tried to climb up the side of the couch, congratulating himself on his ability to multi-task as he managed to rid Maria of her shirt with his other hand. He leaned back so she could get her eager hands under his tee shirt to push it up and off and he braced his hands on the cushion on either side of her as he slowly leaned down over her again. His dark eyes traced over her features as he lowered his head to kiss her but just before his lips made contact with hers a pair of tiny claws latched onto the skin of his backside and he howled at the unexpected, albeit brief, pain.

"Son of a bitch!" he snarled, pulling the kitten off of him as he came up on his knees.

"He didn't mean it, Michael," Maria said, trying so hard not to laugh at him.

"Told you it was gonna be a pain in my ass." He set the kitten down on the floor, holding it still for just a few moments before he released it. He stared at it when it hissed and then laughed when it licked its fur and ran towards the kitchen.

"Are you okay?"

"That depends; are you getting ready to laugh at me?"

Maria motioned for him to join her and he glanced around before carefully lowering himself over her again. "Want me to kiss and make it better?" she asked, gently massaging the offended area.

"Maybe later." He pressed his lips to hers in a series of soft kisses, taking his time before he deepened the kiss and settled against her more comfortably. He was working his way down her neck and heading south when a knock on the door interrupted them and he growled in frustration as he raised his head to look at the door. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?"

Maria was just getting ready to laugh at his expression when Siam darted out of the kitchen and ran across the room, chasing a tiny plastic ball with a bell inside. "Um, Michael?"

"I know," he grumbled, "I'm gonna go answer the door."

"Why is Siam purple?"

Michael smiled at his handiwork. "I think it's a good look for it."

"_Him_, Michael, not _it_. Change him back to his regular color while I go answer the door."

Changing the kitten's fur back to its natural color proved to be a problem because the stupid thing ran under the couch and wouldn't come out. "Well, what am I supposed to do now?" he asked when Maria glared at him as she pulled her shirt over her head.

Before she had the opportunity to answer his question with what was sure to be a scathing response Siam ran out from under the couch and into the bathroom. Michael jumped up and pulled the bathroom door shut, satisfied that the problem had been solved for the moment. One look at his girlfriend's face, however, told him that he was in trouble for turning _their_ pet purple.

Maria rolled her eyes as she pulled the door open, surprised to see Kwai-Chang standing in the hallway outside of their apartment. She knew that Mrs. Wagner had met with her son earlier in the week and it had gone very well; her son was planning to bring his family for a visit in a couple of months so they could all spend some time together. For the present time, he had made plans to stop by every time he was in San Francisco for business.

"Kwai-Chang, how are you?" she greeted.

"Maria, I'm so glad you're home," he said with a smile. "I'm well, how are you?"

"We're doing well, thank you." She motioned for him to step inside and she closed the door after him. "What brings you by?"

"A new case, actually." He shook Michael's hand and declined an offer to have a seat. "No, but thank you, I have dinner plans and it smells like dinner is just about ready for you, too."

"That has yet to be seen," Michael muttered, knowing Maria was going to have plenty to say before he was allowed to eat. "So, you said somethin' about a new case?"

Kwai-Chang was amused by the couple and it was easy to see that Michael had done something that his girlfriend disapproved of. "Yes, a case that Wen and I thought you might be able to help us with. You would be compensated, of course; we have been talking about taking on another partner, but we're not quite ready to take that step. But, we were so impressed with you during Mr. Young's case that we thought we might be able to persuade you to work for us part-time. Take a case every once in a while to kind of even out our caseload."

"Like real detectives?" Maria's eyes gleamed as she considered the possibilities. _Oh, they would have so much fun!_ "I think that would be a wonderful opportunity, don't you, Michael?" She looked behind her when the timer on the counter in the kitchen chimed. "Excuse me, I need to check on dinner."

"That's an interesting color," Kwai-Chang said with a nod towards 'the wall'.

"It's many things," Michael grumbled, "but that isn't the first word that comes to mind."

"Your woman has a rather distinctive flair for the unusual."

"You have no idea." His eyes widened when he heard Siam mewing behind him and a moment later their visitor started to laugh.

"That must be why Maria's displeased with you," Kwai-Chang said, shaking his head. "Dying a woman's cat that color would piss her off." He crouched down to scoop the kitten up, studying it as he held it cradled in both hands. "This is a Ragdoll, right?"

"Yes," Maria answered, joining them once more, "it is a Ragdoll." She glared at her boyfriend, carefully hiding the fact that she was grateful for Kwai-Chang's mistaken belief that Michael had dyed the kitten's fur. "How do you know about the breed?" she asked, accepting the kitten when he held it out to her.

"A woman I dated raised them. I don't care for cats myself, but the Ragdoll is an especially friendly breed."

Michael turned to look at Maria, happy with Kwai-Chang's comment about cats. "See? I'm not the only guy in the world who doesn't like cats."

Maria ignored him royally. "Kwai-Chang, we would love to help you out with your case," Maria said as she ran her hands over Siam's purple fur.

Taking his eyes away from the strange purple cat, Kwai-Chang smiled at Maria's answer. "Perfect, would you be able to come by the office in the next day or two so we can go over the details?" He watched the couple as they discussed their work schedules for a couple of minutes.

Maria shifted Siam to her other arm. "Would the day after tomorrow be okay?"

"Around noon? We could discuss it over lunch, perhaps?" Kwai-Chang proposed.

"That would be perfect," Maria accepted. She had a good feeling about this. Like a new chapter of her and Michael's lives was starting.

Once the arrangements were made, Kwai-Chang took his leave, eager to make it to his date's house in time to pick her up.

Michael locked the door and leaned back against it, watching Maria as she paced back and forth, manically stroking the kitten's fur with one hand. "I'll change the color back," he offered.

"What if he hadn't just assumed that you had dyed Siam's hair purple?" she asked, worried about Michael's little stunt. _The cat would get over it, now Michael on the other hand…_ Maria didn't want to think about the consequences if someone had seen him using his powers. Not now, now when everything was finally falling into place and they weren't on any secret government unit's hit list!

_Oh, hell, this wasn't even about the stupid cat!_ "Maria, I was just goofin' off and nothin' bad happened, okay? Kwai-Chang thought I dyed its hair purple; he had no reason to suspect there was anything alien goin' on." He intercepted her before she could walk past him again, pulling her into his arms and happily squishing Siam between them. "Look, I won't turn the stupid cat purple again, okay?"

Maria leaned back and shoved Siam into his hands so she could reach up to cradle his face in her palms. "Michael, I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't," he promised. "I'll be careful." He pressed his forefinger to her lips and shook his head. "It won't happen again, babe." He removed his finger and lowered his head to kiss her. "Why don't you finish dinner and I'll fix Siam up, good as new."

"I love you, Michael."

"Love you, too." He watched her as she walked back into the kitchen and he looked down at the kitten cradled against his chest. The blue eyes were taunting as he ran his fingers over its fur, changing it back to its natural color. "Yeah," he muttered, shaking his head at the animal, "I know, you won this round, but don't get used to it, you little flea bag. Next one's mine." As soon as Siam was back to normal Michael placed the kitten on the floor and he went to wash up for dinner.

Michael walked into the tiny bathroom, scratching his head as he tried to figure out how the kitten had managed to escape. _The door must've moved back just enough for the stupid cat to get its claws on the wood and pull on it,_ he mused. _Huh, he'd have to fix that._ He stared at his reflection over the sink as he washed up, wondering what kind of case Kwai-Chang and Wen thought he and Maria could help with.

_Oh, well, there was no reason to dwell on it,_ he thought as he dried his hands on the towel hanging on the back of the door. _They would find out soon enough._ He wandered back into the living area and over to the bar that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment and he pulled one of the stools out, sitting on it and resting his forearms on the counter as he watched Maria moving around the kitchen, serving the food and sliding the plates onto the surface he was leaning on.

The End… For Now

Stay tuned for the next installment in the Guerin & DeLuca, P.I. series

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